FROM BAD TO WORSE
by Silvertayl 57
Summary: They were heading to Tennessee on the trail of a werewolf; but on the way Sam gets ill and has to be hospitalized. Dean continues on to Tennessee to hunt the werewolf, but fails to return, so Sam sets out on a hunt for his brother. Longer summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**A Supernatural story by: **_**SILVERTAYL**_

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**STORY SUMMARY:**

**They were heading to Tennessee on the trail of a werewolf; but on the way Sam gets ill and has to be hospitalized. With Sam in good hands and recovering, Dean continues on to Tennessee to hunt the werewolf, but when he fails to return, Sam now recovered sets out on a desperate hunt of his own to find his brother. **

**Chapter 1**

_**Backwoods, Tennessee**_

When Gracie reached the juncture of the trees and the dirt track leading to the road, she stopped for a brief moment, glancing back over her shoulder at the farmhouse. The light from the almost full moon highlighted its shabbiness and years of neglect.

She could follow the winding track or she could take the faster more direct route through the trees of course the safer option would be to take the track but she needed to get to the road as quickly as possible her decision made she set off running through the trees. The dappled moonlight cutting through the trees was just enough light for her to keep up a steady pace without tripping on a tree root and falling on her face.

The last unhappy nineteen years going through Gracie's mind as she ran.

Gracie had met Wade Crocker when she was seventeen and married him when she was eighteen, fresh out of school, too young and so naive, little more than a child. Wade Crocker was sixteen years her senior, already a widower, charming and handsome, he filled her head with promises of marriage and a happy prosperous future on his family property, which turned out to be a ramshackle run down farm, scraping by on some ratty old corn fields.

Now that naive, starry-eyed, girl was gone the nineteen years between then and now had left her an empty shell, a husk, with nothing left inside. Beaten into submission by the man who had promised in church before god that he would love, honor and protect. But the man she thought she'd married that day turned into a monster when on their wedding night the first night in the house that was to become virtually a prison for Gracie, he had brutally beat and raped her virgin body, hurting her cruelly and scarring her in body and soul. Afterwards telling her that this was how it was going to be for her from now on and not to get any hopes of anything more. All Wade really wanted was someone to cook clean and bare children.

Nine months from that night Rae-Anne was born. For a little while after her birth Gracie was almost happy. She had a baby someone she could love, someone who needed and relied her.

But as Rae-Anne grew she changed from that loving child, becoming more like her father. Gracie saw in her the same cruel vicious traits as her father, and every year that went past those traits became more pronounced.

When Rae-Anne was seven Gracie had found her tormenting one of the black and white farm cats, laughing at the poor terrified creatures howls of pain as she held it down and cruelly twisted its legs and tail. The cat had lashed out with its claws scratching Rae-Anne's face. If Gracie hadn't intervened at that moment, Gracie could see from the look on her daughters face that she would have killed the cat.

Gracie had ministered to the poor creature before punish her daughter telling her she had deserved to get scratched. Rae-Anne had run straight to Wade working in the corn fields, crying and bleating about how her Mama had punished her and was horrible to her.

That night Wade had beat Gracie worse than he ever had, before raping her again and again; trying to put another demon seed in her belly then when he was through telling her this is what she could look forward to if she ever punished and upset his daughter. The bruises that time took weeks to fade, but thankfully Gracie had not fallen pregnant.

There had been many such incidents over the ensuing years, but Gracie had learned from that night never again to interfere in her daughters cruel habits. Gracie could not take another beating like that one ever again; she knew it would kill her. But what she had seen tonight would change everything.

Gracie had made a decision this night to get away, after what she had seen Rae-Anne doing in the barn she had to put an end to it, tonight.

She had followed Rae-Anne out to the barn, which was tucked away a fair way behind the house. The barn had once housed a couple of cows, but was now empty, except for some ancient farm equipment and an old Dodge pickup that Wade used to take the corn into town and bring back supplies. After supper both Wade and Rae-Anne had gone out to the barn, Wade had returned a short time later, drank himself into a stupor on bourbon before passing out drunk on the sofa, which was good because it meant that this night he would leave Gracie alone and not force himself on her again and also gave her an opportunity to find out what was going on in the barn, why they were both were spending so much time in there both day and night.

As she had got close to the barn she heard her daughter's laughter intermingled with a man's voice or rather a man's cries of pain and torment. Gracie peered through a gap in between the old warped boards on the side of the barn she took an involuntary gasp and her eyes widened, thankfully for Gracie Rae-Anne hadn't heard her gasp so intent was she on what she was doing. Gracie blinked a couple of times to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her and what she was seeing was for real. The light from the hurricane lamp burning clear and bright hanging above her daughters head highlighted the horrifying scene before her.

The cries were coming from a man his wrists shackled by thick metal cuffs attached to a thick chain and pulled high above his head, the chain was attached to a pulley hanging from one of the horizontal beams spanning the length of the barn, the other end of the chain was looped around a large metal stake deeply embedded into a vertical beam running from floor to roof; the end of the chain was secured over a hook by a thick metal ring, the man was naked, blood from where the shackles had cut into his wrists ran down his arms, his bare dirty feet dangled inches above the hard packed dirt floor. What she could see of his pale skin was broken, bruised and bleeding; his head had dropped forward his longish dark blond hair streaked with his own blood hid his face.

Rae-Anne had been beating him with another shorter length of chain and although from this angle Gracie couldn't see Rae-Anne's face she knew she would be smiling a glint of malicious cruelty in her pale eyes. She laughed with delight as the man's body swung with the momentum of the last hit against his defenseless body. Rae-Anne lifted the chain back over her shoulder and brought it down across his torso, opening up yet another jagged wound, he cried out and his head came up giving Gracie her first view of his face, contorted in agony his face was also bruised and bloody lips cracked and bleeding. Again the chain contacted his skin this time against his upper left thigh; he cried out and breathlessly begged Rae-Anne to stop. Rae-Anne laughed at his plea and brought the chain down again and again the man's body jerked and swung every time the chain came in contact with his tortured flesh.

Gracie couldn't watch any more, she stepped back from the wooden boards; her hand came up to cover her mouth as sickness churned in her stomach threatening to overwhelm her. What she was witnessing proved to her what she had known since Rae-Anne was seven her daughter was a cruel monster just like her father, and Wade knew about this, he had helped her was helping her, there was no way Rae-Anne was strong enough to pull the weight of that man up off the ground, even with the pulley.

Gracie knew what she had to do she had to get away, now tonight she had to get help for that poor man before Rae-Anne beat him to death. Who could she go to for help? She had no one, no family, and no friends, no one except for Mike, that's what she'd do, go to Mike in Irwin.

The house was nearly two miles from the unsealed road and that was miles from where it joined the two lane black top leading directly to Irwin, Gracie prayed that when she did reach the road that she could flag down a passing late night traveler maybe someone that had lost their way and take her to Irwin to Mike, if no one came past then she'd walk to Irwin the whole 28 miles.

After about ten minutes she stopped to get her breath back. She leaned a hand against a nearby tree then looked around. All around her were trees. To her right was a dense group of trees and no moon penetrated the dense canopy of those trees. Gracie straightened up ready to resume her desperate flight. She had a sudden feeling something or someone was there watching her, as she peered into the darkness a low throaty growl came from that direction followed by a flash of yellow, what looked like eyes.

"Who's there?" she asked. Her answer came in another throaty growl and a flash of yellow this time much closer. "Oh god."

Gracie ran again this time in fear of her life, tree branches whipped against her face but she didn't notice. She had to make it to the road, behind her the thing was giving chase, she could hear its deep grunting breaths the thud, crack and crackle of dead branches and leaves under its feet as it pounded through the underbrush, and it was gaining on her.

She risked a quick look over her shoulder and saw the thing that was chasing her, It resembled a wolf but was much larger in the brief glance Gracie saw a lot, its hind legs were longer than a wolf and appeared more human in shape, Gracie knew there were no wolves in Tennessee, and hadn't been for a very long time, so it had to be something else, but what. She scrambled up and over a small rise, sliding down the other side before gaining her feet again. She'd only gone maybe ten or twelve steps when she tripped over something in her path, a tree root or a fallen branch hidden by the carpet of leaves, falling forward landing heavily on her front. Sheer terror and the blood rushing past her eardrums blocked all other sound. Using her hands she pushed herself up onto her knees, then what ever was chasing her hit her from behind pushing her back onto the damp leaf covered ground. She lay there winded the creature had all four of it paws on her back she could feel its claws ripping through her thin blouse and tearing into the flesh of her back and its hot breath on the side of her face and neck, it growled again and sniffed at her, then to her horror it licked the side of her face, leaving a trail of foul smelling saliva in its wake.

Gracie rolled her eyes to the side looking into a pair of yellow eyes, the wolf like creature looked back at her so close she could see the whites of it eyes surrounding the yellow pupils she thought in her terrified mind it looked almost like it was smiling at her then the lips of its mouth curled back revealing long yellowed canine like teeth dripping with saliva. Gracie whimpered, already knowing what was coming next. The creature snarled and its mouth opened wide, long teeth angled downwards, she squeezed her eyes shut, a moment later she felt excruciating pain as the teeth pierced deep into the tender flesh on the side of her neck, she screamed in agony and then knew no more.

Gracie Crocker would never make it to Irwin.

_**Three months later**_

_**A motel in South Carolina**_.

With a long finger Sam drew an imaginary circle on the map of Tennessee spread out on the table. "Three deaths and two disappearances in this area of Tennessee in at last 5 months. The bodies of Dieter and Barbara Kraemar were found here," he stabbed at a spot on the map before continuing, "About two hundred meters from their car, here."

"Do they know why they left the car?" Dean asked looking sideways at Sam.

"Says the car had a dent in the hood, they think they hit an animal in the dark and followed it into the brush to see if it was hurt."

"So doing the right thing is what got them killed?"

"Ripped them apart to be precise."

"Huh, what about the other one?"

"Leon Smith, his broken down car was found here and his body or what was left of it was found here by the side of the road, the theory on him is when he broke down he started walking and was attacked by the same thing."

"Could be just a regular wolf."

"According to the Tennessee Wildlife Group web site there have been no Wolves in Tennessee since around 1900."

"So not a regular wolf, does the lunar cycle fit?"

"All three murders happened in the week leading up to the full moon."

"Well it sure sounds like a werewolf."

"Yep, a couple of local farm owners reported to the Sheriff in Irwin that something was killing their beef cattle."

"The two missing guys," Dean read the names from the print out in Sam's hand, "Simon Green and Esteban Fuentes, they weren't locals like the others."

"Green aged 22 was passing through on his way back to Ohio State after visiting his family in Florida, last seen in the area. He always drove back the same way. Fuentes aged 27 was heading to Texas to start a new job, last seen when the same Sheriff, err a Sheriff Washington pulled him over for having a busted tail light. The strange thing when they went missing it wasn't in the week leading up to the full moon. Green three weeks after the Kraemar's and Fuentes five weeks ago, oh and neither Gonzales or Green's car's were found."

"So maybe they're not connected to our dog-faced boy or.... girl." The brother's were thinking back to San Francisco and Madison. "Perhaps their disappearances are a coincidence and have nothing to do with the supernatural."

"Maybe not."

"When's the full moon?"

"Six nights from tonight."

"Outstanding research Sammy, we'll leave in the morning and be there by tomorrow night.

----- FBTW -----

Dean had woken early the next morning to the sound of Sam throwing up in the bathroom. His brain fuddled by sleep, Dean had gone to his brother doing his best to ease Sam's discomfort with soft spoken words whilst rubbing circles on his broad back until he had finished emptying everything he had eaten in the last 18 hours; Dean had helped him back to his bed wiping a damp wash cloth over his waxy green tinged face. "Sammy, we'll stay here today until you're better."

Sam's throat was dry and sore from the straining and it showed in his voice when he answered. "But Dean we need to get to Tennessee today."

"Tennessee can wait the full moon isn't for six nights."

"No Dean, just give me an hour and I'll be ready to go."

It was closer to two hours, before they had gotten on the road their departure delayed because Sam had thrown up twice more leaving him shaky and pale. Dean noticed the way Sam kept his hand pressed to his right side.

----- FBTW -----

_**North Carolina**_

They were travelling north on the 26 when a sign saying: ASHEVILLE NEXT EXIT 1 MILE, with a picture of a knife and fork, a bed and the Red Cross sign of a hospital below it flew by. Dean glanced at Sam sleeping with his head resting on Dean's thigh, long legs drawn up onto the bench seat his booted feet pushing against the passenger door his right arm wrapped around his middle; the left one dangling over the edge of the seat a fine sheen of perspiration coated his too pale face, brows drawn together in pain. Dean laid his palm against Sam's damp cheek again feeling the heat rolling off him and made a split decision he glanced in the rear view mirror before pulling the wheel to the right. The big black car responded instantly shooting off the 26 and onto the exit ramp. The sideways movement of the car travelling at such high speed caused Sam to groan but he didn't wake.

Two hours ago when Dean had stopped for a leak and refueling for both them and his baby at a gas station with a diner attached, he had tried to get Sam to come in to the diner with him, Sam had declined saying he wasn't hungry and he just wanted to stay in the car. Dean had hurriedly devoured two toasted cheese sandwiches and two exceptionally good mugs of coffee, then hurried back to the car not wanting to leave Sam alone for too long, he was carrying a brown paper bag containing a chicken sandwich hoping he might persuade Sam to eat it, a bag of peanut M&Ms for himself and an icy cold plastic bottle of water in also for Sam Through the passenger side window he could see Sam leaning back against the seat his eyes shut, even from here Dean could a shiver running through him every now and then.

Dean had pulled open the passenger side door with the familiar squeak of old hinges and put everything he was carrying on the floor then he laid a hand against Sam's forehead. Sam turned his head into Dean's palm, bloodshot, hazel eyes had opened and met Dean's concerned green ones. Dean was alarmed when he felt the heat radiating into his hand. "Jeezs Sam you're burning up."

Sam saw the worry written in his brother's eyes and tried to reassure Dean he was okay. Even though he wasn't. "I'm alright; it's just a bad dose of food poisoning." He didn't sound very convincing even to himself.

"Dude we ate the same thing last night and I'm not sick, and that 'I'm alright' line won't work on me cuz I invented it, it's mine exclusively, besides I can see you're not alright." Dean wasn't fooled. "Are you sure it's only food poisoning? Why are you holding your side all the time?"

Sam remembered similar words he'd said to Dean in Bobby's salvage yard when he was rebuilding the Impala after dad had died. _"I'm not alright, but neither are you."_

"Dude too many questions, I've got stomach cramps, they'll go away soon; when the poison's out of my system."

"Umm, I brought you a chicken sandwich, thought you might feel like eating something."

Sam shook his head. "Not hungry."

Dean unscrewed the lid off the cold bottle of water and held the bottle out to Sam. "Well at least drink some of this, I think you're dehydrated."

Sam eyed the bottle; his stomach did a flip-flop a sour taste rising into his throat. _Dean was right, he was dehydrated, and he wasn't alright, I don't know if I can keep even water down, and this god awful pain in my side is getting worse by the minute. But if I take a sip maybe he'll be satisfied and just leave me alone so I can die in peace. _Sam reached out for the bottle trying to hide the shaking of his hand, tipping the bottle up he took the tiniest sip and then handed the bottle back to Dean. Even that tiny sip deciding whether or not it to make an encore appearance. "Thanks."

"Is that all you're gonna' drink?" Dean looked at the bottle noting that the level in the bottle hadn't moved, "I've seen fly's drink more than that."

Sam shook his head, which was a bad idea because he now had a headache pounding behind his eyes. "I'll drink some more, but I'll bring it up all over the dash of the Impala and I'm sure you wouldn't want that."

Dean eyed his brother up and down before sighing and saying. "Well you got that right, okay here's the deal, if you're not any better when we reach the Tennessee border I'm taking you to a doctor."

"Tennessee border huh? Okay deal." Sam would agree to anything as long as Dean would let him be.

"Why don't you lie down in the back you can stretch out, you'd be more comfortable?"

Sam didn't want to move; movement only aggravated the pain in his side and the never ending nausea and made his head pound. "Nar I'm good where I am; besides I'd be lonely back there on my own."

Dean rolled his eyes and closed the door Sam watched him through the windscreen as he went around to the driver's side mumbling something about stubborn ass little brothers.

They'd only been back on the road for around thirty minutes when Sam's head had slipped sideways along the back of the seat. Dean had guided his shaggy head onto his thigh smoothing his too long hair away from his face.

They were still in North Carolina Dean knew Sam was no better in fact he thought he was worse. Dean wasn't sure now if Sam was asleep or semiconscious. He had made the right decision pulling off at the Asheville exit. Sam needed a hospital and he needed it now. Dean was pissed at himself for waiting so long. Tennessee and the werewolf would have to wait, Sam was more important and Dean had to fulfill his duty as big brother, guardian, and protector, his lifelong mantra running through his head, _"Look out for Sammy." _He always had and always would until the day he died.

**TBC**

**So that's the first chapter of my new story, FROM BAD TO WORSE; poor Sam's not well Dean's worried and there's a werewolf on the loose. All reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated. **_**Silvertayl**_


	2. Chapter 2

**FROM BAD TO WORSE **

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:**

Thanks to all who reviewed chapter 1 and all the story alerts. Here's chapter 2, where we find out

what's wrong with Sam; and Dean is in fine big brother mode.

**Chapter 2**

_**St Joseph ER, Mission Hospital - Asheville, Nth Carolina**_

Dean paced up and down the corridor of the ER, in his peripheral vision he saw the sour faced nurse/receptionist with dyed black hair that closely resembled the snake haired Medusa seated behind the reception desk look up from the computer screen, the annoyed look followed by an eye roll and a tut, Dean didn't give a rats that his pacing was annoying her he couldn't sit still and do nothing while his little brother was laying behind the last door on the left of the corridor desperately ill, he wanted someone, anyone to come out and tell him what the hell was wrong with his brother and that Sammy would be okay, and it was just an extremely severe case of food poising.

Dean parked the Impala as close to entrance as possible, levered Sam's 6' 4" solid frame from the passenger seat and half dragged half carried his semi conscious shivering, trembling brother from the car towards the ER. Sam had tried to help but was fading fast with every step he leaned more and more of his weight into Dean's side. Each of the shuffling stumbling steps had been accompanied by a groan from his little brother and the scrape of Sam's boots along the cemented pathway leading to the ER.

The doors slid open and the two staggered inside, Dean now doing most of the work. "Help, I need help." Dean shouted as the doors closed behind them. Sam chose that moment to collapse fully into Dean's side, forcing Dean's knees to buckle, bringing them both down to the floor of the ER in an ungracious heap of limbs. Dean pulled Sam back against him, wrapped his arms around him and tucked Sam's lolling sweat damp head under his chin, his long silky strands of hair catching in Dean's day old stubble.

Even though Dean had come here for help he was suddenly struck by a feeling of dread that if he let go of Sam and relinquished him to strangers he would never see him again. He felt a light pressure on his arm and a soft lightly accented voice said close to his ear. "Sir, sir you have to let go so we can see to him."

Dean looked into the whiskey colored eyes of the young woman in aqua scrubs, sensing rather than seeing the hospital staff gathered around them.

A brusque no nonsense voice asked. "How long has he been like this?" Dean pulled his gaze away from the whiskey eyes to the bearded, grizzled looking man in a white coat pawing at and trying to look into Sam's face.

"Bout two hours, but he's been sick since this morning." Dean answered. The man's tone commanded an answer, reminding Dean of their father.

Sam was forcefully removed from his grip placed on a gurney that had appeared from nowhere and whisked away. Feeling a sudden emptiness now that his charge, his reason for being was gone, Dean got shakily to his feet intending to follow.

For the second time in as many minutes he felt a grip on his arm, he looked down at the small hand on his forearm and then back again to the warmth of the whiskey colored gaze. "Let them do their job, they'll look after him, come with me to the waiting area, I need to get some details from you." Dean looked back to where Sam's booted feet hanging off the end of the small gurney were disappearing into a room at the end of the corridor.

Dean had let the nurse lead him to the waiting area; she maneuvered him into a chair patting his arm before walking away returning a minute later clip board in hand. "If you could fill these in for me, I'll go check on him."

Dean looked from the clipboard held out in front of him to the nurse. "Sam, his name is Sam, he's my brother." Dean wasn't sure why he volunteered that information, she hadn't asked for it.

The nurse nodded. "I'll go and check on your brother." Dean took the clipboard from her hand and followed her with his eyes until she disappeared into the room where he knew Sam lay. Dean looked blindly down at the form in front of him for a moment then gathered himself to fill out the forms he had to get the details of his and Sam's current aliases straight; they couldn't afford any queries over their identities.

That was fifteen minutes ago and Dean had long since finished filling out the hospital forms and had been pacing for the last ten. The young whiskey-eyed European nurse had come back when he'd finished with the forms and taken the clip board from him, informing that they were still examining Sam and didn't know anything yet.

Dean paced back in front of sour faced Medusa again, but this time she spoke. "Would you sit down please you're disturbing the other patients."

Only two people had come in since he'd relinquished his brother to the ER staff, a sobbing boy of around nine or ten accompanied by his distraught mother. The boy had stacked his bicycle and had nasty gravel rash down one leg and arm and a suspected broken wrist, and they had been ushered almost straight away into an examination room.

Dean stopped, glanced around the waiting area then looked at the woman one eyebrow raised in a sarcastic question and said. "The other patients, look lady or should I say Medusa you know you need to find another job, because you're not cut out for this one, I think you'd be more suited to be in the morgue, because you can't offend dead people with that sour face."

Sour face was at a loss for words she stammered and spluttered. "Well I never-"

"No I can imagine you haven't and there lies another problem-" Dean's tirade was interrupted.

"Mr. Eastwood?

Dean turned to face the bearded, grizzled doctor who had come up behind him, sour face forgotten.

"That's me, how's my brother what's wrong with him?"

The doctor looked down at the clipboard he was holding, he didn't answer but instead he asked, "When did he start to show symptoms?"

"Early this morning he was nauseous and he vomited a few times."

"When did the fever come on?"

"Err, three maybe four hours ago, it came on fast one minute he was okay, thought it was food poisoning, then the next thing he was burning up, what is it, what's wrong with him?"

"It's hard to diagnose, his symptoms could mean a lot of things, but the speed of the onset of the fever and how fast he deteriorated leads me to believe he has a ruptured appendix."

Dean swallowed the lump of anxiety lodged in his throat. "That's bad isn't it?" Not really sure he wanted to hear the answer, because hearing it made it real.

"Yes it is, very serious, when the inflamed appendix ruptures it causes poison to spread into the abdominal cavity that's called peritonitis and that can lead to septicemia, poison's the whole system."

"What are you gonna do?"

"He'll be operated upon immediately, the appendix will be removed. If it has burst like I suspect, then a drainage tube will be placed in the abdominal cavity and he'll be given intravenous antibiotics to reduce the possibility of peritonitis."

"He'll be alright though won't he?"

"He's young and strong, he should make a full recovery, do you have any other questions?"

At that moment Dean was too shocked to think of a thing, all he could think of was that his little brother was desperately ill and Dean could lose the only person he had left in the world. The doctor put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed trying to reassure the distraught young man with tears in his green eyes. "They're prepping him for surgery; you can see him before they take him up?"

A short time later Dean was standing inside the door of the examination room; waiting for the nurses to finish prepping Sam for surgery.

When they'd left Dean went over to gurney and stood beside Sam, now dressed in a hospital gown his clothes inside a plastic bag on the chair in the corner he had an IV line inserted in his hand, he looked so young and vulnerable and so ill, his face was pale except for a high spot of color on his cheeks from the fever and covered in a fine coat of perspiration, his hair was covered with a brightly colored surgical cap.

Dean took Sam's limp hand in his and rubbed Sam's forearm in a soothing motion with the other he started speaking to his unconscious, unresponsive brother. "They'll be here soon to take you surgery so I can only stay a minute. You'll come through this Sammy cuz you're strong and stubborn and you know you can't leave me alone, without you Sam I'm dead inside, I have nothing else," tears were now flowing freely but Dean didn't dash them away, they splattered down onto Sam's hospital gown "I love you Sammy, be strong bro."

The orderlies allowed Dean to ride up in the elevator to the operating theaters. Dean ignored the angry vibes coming from Medusa as he passed by the desk. Before the orderlies had wheeled a still silent Sam through the theater doors, one of them had told him that the surgeon would come out and talk to him when she was finished. Dean stood for a long time staring at the closed theater doors. Now Dean had to wait and do something that he had not done since…. forever. Pray.

-- FBTW --

Dean was pacing again, this time up and down the small theater waiting room. He had got quite a rhythm going every time he paced to the doorway he glanced at the theater doors, up at the clock above the doorway, back to the theater doors, and then he paced back to the end of the room nine steps turn and pace back nine steps, then the cycle repeated itself. Most of the time he never even registered what the clock actually said.

Through the window the day had almost given itself up to the dark of evening when a tall, slender middle-aged woman dressed in hospital scrubs and wearing a surgical cap emerged from behind the automatic theater doors. Dean rushed from the small waiting room meeting her before the doors had closed behind her. "Mr. Eastwood?" she asked.

"Yeah how's my brother?"

"He came through the surgery very well, as we suspected the appendix had ruptured, but only just we caught it before too much damage was done, I removed the appendix put in a drainage tube and started him on IV antibiotics."

Dean heaved a sigh of relief before asking, "So he's alright? I mean he'll get better?"

"He'll have to stay in for at least a week, but I'm not anticipating any problems with his recovery, he's young and strong."

"Thanks doc, can I see him?" Dean gave the doctor his version of the patented Sam Winchester puppy dog eyes.

The doctor looked at the hopeful handsome face and the stunning green eyes of the young man in front of her; she wished she could tell him yes, but for now the answer had to be no. "Not just yet he's in recovery at the moment he'll be there for about another half an hour then he'll be moved to a room on the third floor, when the staff down there get him settled in you can see him then."

Dean pressed his index finger and thumb into the inner corner of his eyes trying to ease the ache that had been building there. Exhaustion both physical and mental was written on his face and in the set of his wide shoulders. "You look done in how long's it been since you ate?"

"You don't have to worry about me doc, I'm fine now that I know Sam's okay." A ghost of a smile flittered across his face.

"The cafeteria is open 'til nine, why don't you go and get something to eat and when you get back, you can see Sam."

"Sounds good to me, thanks for everything doc." Dean put out his hand and clasped the doctor's hand in a warm firm handshake, firm but not a show of superior strength bone crusher.

"You're more than welcome, now you two take care. I'll come see how Sam's doing tomorrow." She smiled and turned back to the theater doors.

Dean watched her go, knowing that his little brother was behind those doors but more importantly he knew Sam was in very good hands. Then he realized he didn't know the name of the woman who had saved his brother's life.

**TBC**

**Poor Sam had a ruptured appendix and Dean had plenty of angst. **

**Thanks for reading, please review, I would appreciate it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**FROM BAD TO WORSE **

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:**

Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter but dreaded real life has been hectic, so apologies. Thanks to all who read and those who read and reviewed chapter 2.

Here at last is chapter 3. Let's see how Sam's getting on after his surgery and how his anxious big brother, Dean is coping.

Oh, and thanks as always to my beta msokiedokie!

**Chapter 3**

Sam didn't open his eyes, he didn't want too, not yet. He wanted to languish in the quiet, warmth and comfort of his current pain free existence, for the first time in what felt like forever he was free of the ever intensifying pain that had become his constant companion.

He couldn't remember how he had gotten to this state of bliss. The last conscious thoughts he had were of the pain in his side spreading until it encompassed him a capsule of misery.

He tried to piece together the pieces of his fractured memory, he vaguely remembered Dean pulling him out of the Impala, intensifying the pain and causing him to groan. He remembered taking some agonizing steps supported by Dean who held him against his side and dragged him forward murmuring words close to Sam's ear. Words of what Sam thought were comfort and encouragement to keep moving forward, Sam knew instinctively that Dean was trying to help him, so he tried to force his legs to cooperate with his brother's soft low plea and managed to shuffle forward without lifting his feet from the ground. Sam knew that Dean was doing all the work and without Dean he would not be upright. The surface under his dragging feet changed from rough to smooth, Sam gave a silent prayer that they had reached their destination. He couldn't see where they were his eyesight blinded by a red haze of pain. He'd had enough, _I can't go any further,_ _please Dean leave me, let me be, let me fall;_ _I just wanna be still, no more movement and the pain will stop, it has to, I can't take any more._

For his big brother his silent plea was not an option, all Sam's life Dean had been there for him, nurturing, teaching, supporting, encouraging, praising, loving and protecting him. But the red haze before his eyes was fading to black taking with it the last remaining threads of consciousness and he could feel himself slipping away on a sea of pain and sickness.

That was as far as he could get with his jigsaw puzzle of a memory. Where he was now and how he had gotten here were missing pieces of that jigsaw.

If he was in a motel bed then it had a five star rating, because this bed is the most comfortable he slept in since he and Dean had stayed for two weeks in Savannah at the Archer Mansion, while Dean recovered from wounds suffered in a vicious attack by Louis Archer's long dead vengeful spirit.

Sam became aware of someone else in the room, moving quietly about. It had to be Dean who else would be in the motel with them. At least Dean was making an effort not to wake him. The sudden need to lay eyes on his big brother convinced him to open his sticky and uncooperative eyelids, but the person hovering above him was definitely not Dean because _**she**_ was female. She was writing something on a clipboard she had in her hand.

She was of undetermined age with mousy brown hair pulled back from her high forehead, making her long thin face appear gaunt, her nose was too big and her muddy brown eyes were too close together, her skin was as pale as many of the ghosts he and Dean had come across over the years.

She stopped her scribbling and glanced from the clipboard to him as if she got the feeling of being scrutinized, and then she smiled her face alight with the kindness and caring of her profession, because gazing at her Sam knew he was not in a motel room he was in a hospital and this plain Jane with the wonderful smile was a nursing sister.

"Welcome back." She said as she tucked the pen into the top pocket of her uniform. "How you feeling?" She added.

Sam answered her question with one of his own. "Where's Dean?" His voice was dry and scratchy and sore, it felt like broken glass had been shoved down it.

"Throat sore? Some water will help." She picked up a stainless steel carafe from the tray table and poured water into a small cup with a straw in it and placed the straw against his lips. Sam was forced to drink before he could ask his question again. The cool liquid was like nectar of the gods on his dry sore throat, it trailed a cooling path down to his stomach.

As soon as it hit the bottom Sam asked again. "Where's Dean?" The water had done its job efficiently, his voice sounded more like his own.

Nurse Jane as Sam now thought of her put down the cup before answering. "Your brother? He's waiting outside, or should I say prowling the corridor like a caged tiger, he's been very worried about you."

"Did he bring me here?"

"Yes it's the talk of the hospital he practically carried you through the doors, when you collapsed he was holding onto you so tightly the ER staff had to almost resort to using a crow bar to pry him away from you, he's very protective, yeah." _A statement or a question._

"Yeah that's my big brother."

"I'll go tell him you're awake, he'll be very relieved."

She replaced the clipboard at the bottom of the bed and slid out the door, Sam glimpsed a typical hospital corridor through the partially open door before it closed behind her.

Sam glanced around the room, also typical of hospital, clean, clinical but trying not to look like a hospital. The murmur of the nurse's voice outside drew Sam's eyes back to the closed door; there was a deeper answering voice that Sam knew belonged to his brother.

A few seconds later Dean's head appeared around the edge of the door closely followed by the rest of him. He smiled as he moved towards the bed. "Hey Sammy you look better than the last time I saw you, and you were wearing the most fetching paper hat."

Sam couldn't help but smile as he answered with, "Its Sam, and you by the way look like crap." Sam noted Dean's drawn, tired face, the lines of worry around his mouth and the dark purple smudges underneath his eyes.

"Nice to see you too and be that as it may I'm still the handsome brother."

"With those the panda eyes?"

"Oh I dunno, thought I might go Goth for awhile."

"Seriously Dean you need to sleep."

"Yeah well first things first, how you feelin'?"

"I've been better."

Dean pulled the only chair in the room up to the bed and sat down on it with a weary sigh, he dragged a hand down his face before saying, "Sammy man you really scared me, the next time you're sick damn it just say so alright?"

"Okay, message received loud and clear, but Dean what happened? I don't remember much after you stopped for lunch."

"Dude you had a ruptured appendix, which is really serious, they had to do emergency surgery to take it out and stop the infection from spreading and turning into something worse, plus you're gonna have a neat scar to show for it."

Sam lifted the cotton cell blanket away from his torso, the IV inserted into a vein and taped to the back of his hand pulling uncomfortably. All he could see was the white hospital gown that covered him from neck to knee. "Hey didn't I have my appendix out when I was 9?"

"No that was your tonsils."

"Oh yeah right." Sam was never one to keep track of childhood illnesses, but no doubt Dean could name every time Sam had been sick or ill the day, the month, the year, the city and state they were in at the time it happened. "Hey Dean where are we?"

"Mission hospital, Asheville North Carolina."

"So we never made it to Tennessee?"

"No but we will when you're better."

"What about the you know?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Not on your own you're not."

"I'm a big boy Sam, I can do a little animal control."

"Dean please don't go out there on your own, I'll be okay in a few days, and we'll do it together."

"Oh no you're gonna be here longer than that, Sam you nearly died a few hours ago, doc said they'll keep you in for a week."

"A week but the full moon is in six nights, if we don't do it before then we'll have to wait another month."

"I said I can take care of it."

"As you always say we go in smart or we don't go in at all, going after that thing on your own is madness and not smart."

"Okay okay don't get your panties in a twist, we'll take care of it next month, together."

Sam gave Dean a wan smile of thanks he was suddenly overcome with lethargy and the need to close his eyes and sleep and it must have showed, Dean got to his feet and put the chair back against the wall.

"I'm gonna go and let you get some rest, I'll come by in the morning."

Sam lost the battle to keep his eyes open. "Ahuh."

Sam could sense Dean was still there standing over him, watching him sleep still playing the guardian.

Without opening his eyes, Sam said, "Go Dean, get some sleep, please."

There was a smile in Dean's voice when he said, "Okay I'm going, night Sammy."

"It's Sam."

-- FBTW --

On the way out Dean stopped at the nurses' station and asked the nurse there who looked as tired as he felt if there was a reasonably priced motel close by.

"There's a Motel 6 on Tunnel Road just past the golf course."

"Thanks." He turned away and then turned back, "Err would you mind pointing me in the direction of Tunnel Road."

The weary but attractive thirty-something nurse smiled before saying. "Stranger in town? Turn right out of the parking area, follow Biltmore up to College St, turn right there, College turns into Tunnel Road, follow it out past the golf course, Motel 6 is on the right you can't miss it."

"So… Biltmore , College, Tunnel, right."

"Right."

Dean gave her one of his lady killer smiles before making his way to the elevator. When he entered the elevator he turned, as he suspected she was watching him, as the doors began to slide shut he gave himself a mental pat on the back and a satisfied smile curved his full shapely lips, _panda eyes and all you still got it Winchester._

The nurse's directions were sound and Dean soon found himself in a typical motel room. He showered letting the stinging hot water ease some of the tension in the knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders, he stayed there until the water started to cool, a few minutes later clean and dry he flopped down on the bed, physical and mental exhaustion gripped him, the last eighteen hours replaying in his aching head and behind his gritty stinging closed eyes.

To spite his exhaustion sleep evaded him, his thoughts torn between Sam and what he had said about him not hunting the Werewolf alone, _hell Sam is probably right, hunting alone nine times out of ten ended disastrously for one of them_, and Werewolves were vicious mindless killers, a man or woman by day and a senseless killer by night in the week leading up to the full moon, then back to man or woman for the next month until the cycle repeated itself, but, how many more unsuspecting people would fall victim to the moonlight predator in the next six evenings, he could go to Tennessee, do the job and be back before Sam was even close to be released from the hospital.

Sam was in good hands and he didn't have to worry about him. He'd swing by the hospital in the morning and check on his little brother then head on over to Tennessee, if luck was on his side he could finish it tomorrow night and be back in Asheville the morning after, Sam would never even know.

His decision made his weary body began to relax and shut down and Dean at last found sleep.

**TBC**

**Thanks for reading I hope it was worth the wait.**

**In the next chapter, Dean goes off to Tennessee alone to trap a Werewolf while Sam recovers in hospital unaware his brother is in grave danger.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**FROM BAD TO WORSE **

**DISCLAIMER:  
**You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:  
**I swear on John Winchester's journal that I wrote the first part of this chapter before I saw

YELLOW FEVER, so I'm sorry if certain scenes in a sheriff's office seem like a rip off, it's purely a coincidence. You know what they say: Great minds think alike. LOL

I hope you guys are still enjoying this story. Thanks to all who read and reviewed chapter 3. Here's chapter 4.

As always my beta for this chapter is: msokiedokie.

**Chapter 4**

_**Erwin, Tennessee**_

It was already mid afternoon when Dean pulled the Impala up outside the Erwin sheriff's office. He'd spent longer than he had expected at the hospital that morning, torn between wanting to be with his brother and wanting to get on to Tennessee. But he didn't want Sam to get suspicious and think that he was going to go back on his word not to hunt the werewolf on his own, _which I have every intention of doing,_ so he he appeared anxious to be away from Sam and somewhere else or rushed off too soon, Sam would know, and besides Dean enjoyed time spent with his brother even when Sam was being a pain in the ass.

Before he'd left the motel he'd done some ground work, reviewing Sam's research on the hunt and then ringing the Erwin sheriff and telling him he was on his way, to help him sort out his current problems or rather Agent Dean Eastwood a federal agent was on the way.

When Dean entered Sam's room he wasn't expecting to see Sam sitting up in bed, his hazel eyes bright if a little bloodshot; but he was and he seemed surprising good for a man who'd had his appendix yanked out some 15 hours earlier.

Sam was quick to volunteer that when he'd woken he'd been nauseous from the high doses of antibiotics being pumped into him intravenously and lack of anything solid to eat in more than twenty four hours, and what little he had eaten had made a second appearance. The doctor on duty had prescribed something to counteract the nausea also intravenously, feeling better and hungry as a hunter, the irony of that thought not lost on him, Sam had consumed a light breakfast of fruit and toast before Dean had arrived.

Dean himself had gorged himself at a waffle house he had spotted the night before close to the motel which happened to be on the way back to the hospital. Now seeing Sam on the road to recovery made Dean even more comfortable with his decision to head on to Tennessee and finish this hunt that had stuttered to standstill due to Sam's unfortunate health emergency.

"So Dean what are you going to do while I'm laid up in here?" Sam asked out of the blue.

Dean wasn't sure if Sam really wanted to know or if he had an inkling of what he was planning to do, Dean didn't think he'd given any indication that he wasn't being honest with his brother, _and I'm not but he doesn't need to know that._

Fortunately Dean had a planned story for such an occurrence. "Thought I might service and tune the car it's ten thousand miles overdue and there's that rattle in the motor."

"I didn't notice any rattle."

"One of the tires could fall off and you'd never notice."

Sam eyed his brother suspiciously before seemingly accepting Dean's observation about his lack of knowledge about the workings of the Impala.

He had stayed for another hour; he then retrieved his suit from the Impala and went back into the hospital changing in the men's room on the ground floor.

Getting out of the Impala, Dean shrugged into his suit jacket, checked he had his fake ID and entered the sheriff's office.

As he entered an electronic bell connected to the entrance door sounded, a young dark-haired man wearing a sheriff's uniform seated behind the front desk looked up at the sound.

Dean sauntered up to the desk pulling his ID from his inner pocket, he flipped it open and held it up for the young deputy to see, saying, "FBI Agent Eastwood to see Sheriff Washington."

"You're the fed?" The deputy asked as he stood and briefly examined Dean's ID.

As Dean tucked the ID back into his pocket he glanced at the deputy's name badge pinned to the upper left of his chest. "You were expecting someone else Deputy Mastrone?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. _Might as well play the part of the federal dick to the max, It's what they would expect from the bureau._

"No, no one else." Deputy Mastrone answered quickly.

A door behind the deputy opened and a tall African American man came out. _This has to be Sheriff Washington. _Although wearing an identical uniform as Deputy Mastrone his baring bespoke of confidence and experience. He was in his mid thirties, muscular and fit looking, handsome, he reminded Dean of Denzel Washington, _and they even share the same surname._

Seeing Dean he stepped around the desk, he smiled as he held out his hand, "I'm Sheriff Mike Washington."

The sheriff stood as tall as Dean's 6'1 and Dean liked him immediately, there was honesty and caring in his dark brown eyes. Dean returned his smile and took his outstretched hand, as Dean had expected The Sheriff had a warm firm handshake. "Agent Dean Eastwood, we spoke on the phone."

"Come into my office we'll talk in there, Adam will get us some coffee please, coffee Agent Eastwood?"

"Coffee sounds good, black."

Dean followed him into his office; he motioned towards a chair opposite the large paper strewn desk, "Take a seat Agent Eastwood."

As Dean sat he said. "Please call me Dean." _Why did I say that it's not very FBI like?_

"Alright, Dean and I'm Mike," He said as he sat behind the desk, "Excuse the mess; I'm doing some much overdue filing, so why are the fed's getting involved in the animal problems of a small Tennessee town?"

Twenty minutes and two cups of coffee later they were standing in front of a map of Tennessee pinned to wall to the right of Mike's desk, Mike was showing Dean the pinned areas of the map and the significance of each of the different colored pins. The red pins represented where the victim's bodies were found, the blue pins where the two missing men's cars were found, and the yellow pins where the mutilated cattle were found.

Dean pointed to a section of the map where there was a concentration of 3 red pins and 2 blue pins. "Who owns this property here?" Dean indicated the area adjacent to the pins.

Mike hesitated before answering, "That, that's the Crocker place." The tone of his voice made Dean look at him.

"Something up with the Crocker's that I should know about?"

"Wade, Gracie and their daughter Rae-Anne." Mike answered speaking into his nearly empty coffee cup with sheriff stenciled on it.

"Mike, if I'm going to solve this problem, you need to tell me everything."

Mike sighed and then said, "I grew up with Gracie we went to school together, she was the prettiest girl, kind and sweet not a mean bone in her body. We both knew we had a future together, you know, even with the color difference, you see Gracie is white."

Dean nodded. "I know what you mean." He understood having once had a similar relationship with Cassie.

Mike continued, "Then.... when she met Wade everything changed he was fifteen, sixteen years older than her and had already put one wife in the grave, Gracie she was smitten she fell head over heels for him and up and married him when she was eighteen, just like that. Nineteen years ago that was. I never saw much of her after that, but that Wade he's a mean drunk, and he's drunk most of the time a cruel and vicious bastard, I think he hits her and abuses her in other ways, but Gracie stays, I don't know why and from what I've heard that daughter takes after her daddy, cruel, thoughtless a nasty piece of work."

"Has Crocker complained of cattle deaths?"

"No he's the only one who hasn't, do you think there could be a connection?"

"Maybe."

"I don't know if Crocker has any cattle left, all he's got left there as far as I know is some corn and a few dairy cows, he's let the place go to the dogs."

_A poor choice of words in the circumstances. _"How long since you or anybody's seen the Crocker's?"

"Saw Wade in town about five maybe six weeks ago, going into the liquor store, where else, but… Gracie I haven't seen her for a couple of years, why do you ask?"

"No reason just curious." But he had reason for asking, _maybe the Crocker's are also victims of the werewolf or maybe one of them is the werewolf. _

Dean left the sheriff's office a few minutes later, telling Mike he had all the information he needed for now and he'd be in after he'd done some investigating and/or solved the problem.

----- FBTW -----

In the circle of illumination the flashlight provided Dean checked the map, he wanted to be sure he was in the right place, he'd followed Tiger Creek Road until he'd spotted the old signpost bent over at a 45 degree angle pointing at the ground and not at the dirt track off to the left, the barely legible sign indicating this was in fact Miller Road, he'd followed that for a mile until he spotted another dirt track to the left, this one unmarked and hardly wide enough for an average sized car leading off at an angle into the dense trees the track was only visible for 12 maybe 15 meters before curving out of sight further away from the road. This was the track that led to the Crocker place and the area where the killings and disappearances were most concentrated, the hunting ground of werewolf.

Dean reversed the Impala back and onto the edge of the road turned off the engine and waited. The sun had gone down, fighting a losing battle with the inevitable onset of night the last of the daylight was clinging desperately to any open areas, under the canopy of the woods lining the roadside the darkness had already taken hold casting eerie sinister shadows that could conceal any number of things. The moon would rise shortly meaning the creature Dean was seeking would appear hungry for flesh.

Dean waited until the moon had risen, its light filtering through the trees casting swaying shadows across the car before going to the trunk and retrieving his handgun. He inserted a full clip of silver bullets and put another clip in the pocket of his denim jacket, then added a silver knife to his pocket alongside the spare clip.

He pushed through the brush at the side of the road, flashlight illuminating the uneven ground in front of him, looking for some sign that the creature he sort was inhabiting this area. He followed a vague trail deeper into the woods and away from the road. Dean panned the flashlight across the barely there trail and into the trees on either. Every now and then he caught a glimpse of the dirt track winding its way towards the Crocker place. A hundred or so meters further on the flashlight picked out something on the trail, Dean crouched down next to it to get a closer look. It was the carcass of some animal or what was left of it, which wasn't much. Dean thought it could have been some kind of deer but he couldn't be sure. Sam's research had said that some kind of deer lived in this area of Tennessee. Whatever it was the poor unfortunate animal was no doubt the victim of the werewolf.

Dean got to his feet stepped over the remains and continued on, he'd only gone a short way when a strange feeling of being watched struck him to add credence the feeling came the sound of a branch snapping off his left, he swung the flashlight and the gun up together pointing into the trees, the light caught the glint of something yellow, then a second later was gone leaving the branches shivering in its wake as whatever had been watching him moved away at a fast pace, as if it could sense he meant to put an end to it. Dean could hear it crashing through the brush its flight accompanied by the snap and crackle of twigs and leaves.

He took off in the direction the animal had taken, dodging in and out of the trees going as fast as he dared; the werewolf was outpacing him the sounds of its retreat were getting fainter, it was getting away. Dean picked up the pace the branches of the nearby trees whipping across the exposed skin of his face and neck.

A few paces on and the trees thinned out and opened up onto a small clearing a fallen tree lay across it, the trees at the far side of the clearing still moving in the wake of the werewolf, he was gaining on it.

He launched himself up and over the fallen tree in a style an Olympic hurdler would envy. His landing on the other was near perfect except for the sound of a metallic snap and intense pain that shot up from the ankle of his right leg, bringing him down flat on his front, the flashlight and gun forced from his grip skittered away quickly swallowed up by the darkness. He slid forward on the damp slimy mulch of leaves and mud before he was jerked to a stop by something pulling on his painful ankle.

Winded and breathless Dean rolled over; pain again radiating out from his ankle, as he got some damp mildew smelling air back into his starved lungs he lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked down at the offending limb which he feared from the pain was broken. He groaned low in his throat, it might be broken; _it sure hurts like a sonofabitch. _But it was hard to tell how much damage had been done seeing as he couldn't see his foot it was encased in the steel jaws of a gin trap, blood was already seeping into the denim of his jeans leg where the sharp teeth of the trap pierced the hem of the thick cotton material.

"Sonofabitch." Dean exclaimed in frustration he shimmied forwards towards the fallen tree trunk taking some of the pressure off his trapped foot. The trap was attached to the tree trunk by a chain wrapped around it, he pulled on the chain hoping to pull the chain loose but it was anchored under the tree and he couldn't move it a fraction and to make things worse the movement caused the steel jaws to penetrate deeper into his flesh, he could feel one of the metal teeth grinding against a bone in his ankle.

_That was a bad idea, Dean. _He looked around for his gun but he it was out of sight as was the flashlight. Then he remembered the silver knife in his pocket. Dragging it out the moonlight filtering through the trees glinted off the silver blade, with a deep breath he pushed it in between the jaws of the trap his trapped bleeding ankle the only thing keeping the trap closing right up, he tried to lever the jaws apart releasing the jaws a little before the blade slipped and the jaws closed even further into the tortured flesh.

Hissing in agony at the increased pressure and pain Dean threw the knife away in disgust, grabbed either side of the trap threading his fingers in between the teeth and tried to pull them apart, but the trap was old and rusty and seemed almost fused around his ankle.

Then he heard a sound that sent chills racing down his spine, a low growl coming from the trees at the edge of the clearing where the werewolf had gone. _Crap now I'm really in trouble, its coming back._

Dean reached for the discarded knife causing the trap to sink yet further into his ankle, he groaned as he stretched farther, finger tips touching the handle before he curled his hand around the hilt. As quickly as possible he swung himself around and scooted backwards the chain clanking against the trap until his back was against the tree trunk the knife clutched in his suddenly sticky sweat soaked hand, he could feel a film of perspiration along his forehead and his upper lip. A huffing, snorting noise came from the trees, then the branches parted and the werewolf's head appeared the yellow eyes centered on Dean, the jaws parted slightly and a deep growl emitted from the depths of its throat, saliva dripped from the long yellowed fangs. It ventured further into the clearing never taking its eyes off of its next meal. It lifted its head skyward and emitted a long earsplitting howl from deep in its throat almost like to was calling to something, and then it looked back at Dean the strange eyes glinting with intent.

"Nice doggy you don't wanna eat me, I'm not very tasty… too boney."

Dean could have sworn the creature smiled at his attempt at humor it took three steps closer then without warning it launched itself at him, it's jaws opened wide and angled towards his neck a split second before it made contact he thrust the knife forward into the hairy chest where he hoped was its heart, the knife buried itself deep into the animal as its full weight slammed into Dean crushing him between it and the tree knocking the breath from him for the second time in five minutes the dripping fangs glancing off the soft skin of his neck and its large canine head knocked against Dean's cheekbone slamming his head back into the tree trunk, the world tilted around him and the smell of wet dog surrounded him invading his nostrils, the dead weight of the animal, _god I hope it's dead_, the blow to his cheek and the back of his head combined with the red hot pain pulsing up from his ankle sending him down into oblivion.

Dean didn't see the other smaller werewolf emerge from the trees, seeing its dead mate it too howled, a howl filled with lose and sadness. It sat on its haunches and watched as the dead werewolf changed back to its human form, the unknown man's naked body lay sprawled across Dean, the man's still warm blood leaked from where the knife was embedded in his chest soaking into Dean's clothes and the damp ground underneath him.

The still living werewolf whimpered at its loss then stood and with a last look at the two men one dead one living it bounded from the clearing quickly blending into the surrounding woods.

**TBC**

**The fun begins. Dean is in big trouble and Sam's is unaware of his brother's peril.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Thanks for all the terrific reviews of the last chapter, here's chapter 5 with a huge dose of hurt Dean, enjoy.

Oh! And thanks again to MsOkieDokie for her beta work!

**Chapter 5**

The howl from the woods penetrated Wade's drunken stupor; he sat up from the couch the empty bottle of whiskey that had been lying across his chest tumbled to the threadbare carpet and rolled away. He stumbled to the window looking through the grimy windowpane and stared out into the night, waiting to see if the noise came again. _Did I imagine it? I've been imagining other things lately. _Twice in the last couple of months he thought he'd seen Gracie watching him from behind the cover of trees. But Gracie had left him and Rae-Anne nearly three months ago, under cover of darkness she'd left just like that. Wade was surprised that Gracie had the nerve to leave, over the years he had made her aware of the consequences if she ever tried such a thing, but the next morning came she was nowhere about Wade knew she was gone. No doubt she'd run off to that sheriff that Mike Washington, crying into the front of his sheriffs uniform telling all kinds of tales of how cruel he was to her and he would have greeted her with open arms because that black bastard had been in love with his wife since school.

Wade had thought about going into Erwin and dragging Gracie back to the farm but decided against it, he didn't want to create a scene in the sheriff's office and give Washington a reason to throw him in a jail cell. For the first few days after Gracie left, Wade had expected a visit from the sheriff, in the guise of official business to discuss the disappearances and this animal that had been stalking the woods bordering his property. But the real reason would be to chew him out about the way he treated Gracie and seek some revenge for his childhood sweetheart.

But a week went by and he never showed. He did however have a visit from the owners of two neighbouring properties wishing to discuss this animal that was using the area as some sort of hunting grounds. Both men had lost prime beef cattle to the animal and had reported the cattle mutilations to the sheriff's office. Wade had told them he didn't care about their cattle and to get off his property they'd almost come to blows before they had left angry at Wade's thoughtless attitude and lack of caring towards his neighbours. The truth was Wade had already taken steps to catch the animal setting illegal gin traps in strategic places all over his property, up until now he'd come up empty.

The howl came again this time it sounded more plaintive, sad almost. Wade ran to the stairs yelling up to the floor above. "Rae-Anne honey come on down." He didn't wait to see if she had heard him he ran to the cabinet where he keep his hunting rifles pulled one out and checked to see if it was loaded. He went to the front door just as Rae-Anne appeared on the stairs still dressed in her nightgown her hair sticking up in a halo of greasy, mousey brown tufts.

"Daddee what is it?" she asked sleepily.

"I think we caught that animal, go get some shoes on, quick."

A look of glee came over her face before she turned and ran back up the stairs taking them two at a time.

They had checked two of the seven traps before they found them. He had caught something but not the animal he had thought would be in his trap, these were a different kind of animal.

At first glance Wade thought they were both dead two men lay in the clearing one sitting with his back to the fallen tree trunk his bloodied foot and the leg of his jeans, evidence he was caught in the trap attached to the fallen tree. The other man was naked his body was lying across the semi upright body of the first.

Wade nudged the naked one with his foot waiting to see if there was any reaction, there wasn't. Using the rifle he rolled man's body over and away from the other one. The handle of a knife protruded from the near dead centre of his chest dark blood oozed from the wound his eyes were open, wide, staring and lifeless.

"Do you think the other one did that to him?"

"I dunno sweet pea, sure looks like it."

Rae-Anne's attention was drawn to the younger man lying underneath. She squatted down beside him; lifting his dark head from where it was resting on his chest she looked closely at him taking in every feature of his face the classic bone structure, shapely lips and the thick, long dark lashes lying against his pale cheeks, she wondered what color his eyes were, the sooty lashes tempting her to pry one open to find out, she asked her hovering father. "Do you think this one's dead too?" A smile of appreciation flitted across her face, "A shame cuz he sure is purdy."

Wade hunkered down next to his daughter; looking for signs of life, he saw the slight rise of the man's chest. "He's alive."

"He is, oh Daddee can I keep him, please?" Rae-Anne begged.

"I dunno sweetie."

"Please Daddee, can I? I'll be good, promise."

Wade looked from his daughter to the man's lax face. "Oh oright, but make this one last a bit longer, that last one only lasted four days."

Rae-Anne clapped her hands together. "Thank you Daddee, I love you." She leaned towards her father and gave him a quick hug.

"That's enough of that, check his pockets."

Rae-Anne did as she was asked, she found a disposable lighter a metal prong that resembled a crochet hook a cell phone and a set of keys she tossed the prong thing and the cell phone into the bushes, there was no point in keeping it cuz there was no cell reception out here. "Found some car keys." She jiggled them in the air.

"Go down to the road and have a look for his car, when you find it bring it up to the house and park it behind the barn and make sure it's out of sight."

"But Daddee we never took the others cars, why take this one's?"

"We could bring the sheriff down on us if he finds another abandoned car near the front of our place, he's bound to get suspicious; he'll come snooping around, we don't want that, now you do as I ask an' I'll take care of your new toy."

"Okay Daddee."

Rae-Anne got to her feet her pale eyes lingering on the handsome unconscious stranger before she took the flashlight and with the keys spinning around her finger trudged reluctantly off through the trees towards the road.

"Be careful, that animal is still out there."

"I will."

Wade looked closely at the man, he was covered in blood, but most of it was not his own and belonged to the dead man. Apart from the obvious injury of the trapped foot, he had a darkening bruise on his right cheek, a half dozen raised red grazes on the same side of his neck and a lump on the back of his head, the skin there was split and a trickle of blood ran down the back of his neck soaking into the collar of his dark blue shirt. This had to be the cause of his unconsciousness. Wade would have to carry him back to the barn, or drag him, but he didn't want to damage him any more than he already was, he would leave the hurting to Rae-Anne.

Wade jammed the butt of the rifle into the trap onto the opening mechanism below the stranger's boot, at the same time twisting the rifle. The rusty jaws of the trap sprang away with a squeak, blood, skin and denim from the man's jeans clinging to them. The dark stain around the man's foot and jeans spread like a spilt glass of water.

He reset the trap, because as he'd told Rae-Anne, that animal was still out there. The dead man would have to stay where he is until tomorrow; he'd come back in daylight and bury him. The unconscious man was solid and heavy but Wade compared to him was a giant and had no trouble hefting the man up from the damp ground and over his shoulder, the man never made a sound his head and arms dangled lifelessly down Wades back; he wrapped his arms around the man's calves, blood from the stranger's foot dripped steadily onto the ground in front of Wade, a macabre trail leading the way as he began the trek through the woods back to the house. He didn't need a flashlight; because he knew these woods better than anyone, this was his place and would remain so.

----- FBTW -----

Someone was inside his head, and that person was trying to get out by bashing on the inside of his scull with a hammer. Dean became aware of more pain this one centered in his foot and ankle, throbbing in time with the hammer blows inside his head and joined now by his arms they felt like they were being wrenched out of the shoulder sockets but strangely his hands were numb.

The last thing he remembered before this was the werewolf landing on him then nothing, until now. He knew he was no longer in the trap but the pain from the injury was a throbbing agony he groaned and opened his eyes to see what kind of damage he'd done to cause such intense pain. _Is it that dark or am I blind as well as crippled?_ All he could see was well nothing, blackness, he opened his eyes wider and waited, after a minute he could make out changes in the density of the darkness with some lighter patches here and there, but he couldn't see his legs which were stretched out in front of him he tried to move his injured foot but the pain doubled, shooting tentacles of pain up to his groin and causing a sour taste of sickness to rise in his throat. He took a couple of deep breaths trying to force the sickness down bringing his sense of smell into focus, the smell of earth mixed with the cloying smell of decaying rotten vegetation. He could feel stickiness in his hair and on the back of his neck, hard wood against his bare back and splinters digging into his spine and the packed earth underneath his legs with the odd sharp stone pushing into his skin at the back of his thighs and butt cheeks. _Wait a second I'm naked, what the hell? _And there was something else he'd discovered apart from his nakedness, why his arms were hurting because they were stretched above his head and from the feel of it his wrists were manacled he could feel the hard edge of thick bands of metal had already drawn blood that was creeping slowly down his arms, he pulled back against the pain in his arms and shoulders testing the strength of the bindings, they were firm and there was no way he could pull them down without amputating his hands in the process. _I've woken in the middle of Saw V._

Dean ceased his efforts to listen, trying to judge if there was anybody else somewhere close by in the darkness, another captive maybe, but the only sound that came back to him was his own harsh breathing.

In anger and frustration he pulled down on the chains again, forgetting his moments earlier assessment of amputation, this time the movement jarred down his hyper extended arms into his neck and up into his head causing the pain thumping there to pulse with renewed agony sending him back into total darkness.

The next time he roused Dean was instantly aware that he wasn't alone and it wasn't dark any more, he lifted his head up from his chest and cracked open his eyes a little, directly in front of him was a teenage girl, her pale colourless eyes, pale skin and gaunt thin face gave her a waif-like appearance, her mousy brown hair was held away from her face by two hairpins trying valiantly to keep the knotted and tangled mass in place.

She smiled at him and said in a strong Tennessee accent, "They're green."

"What… what are you talking about?" Dean's voice was dry and scratchy from lack of moisture he was hot and so thirsty; he felt a trickle of perspiration tracking down the side of his throat to settle in the dip of his trachea.

Her pale eyes followed the movement, the tip of her pink tongue pushed out from between her dry lips and slid slowly across the cracked skin there. Dean thought she was going to lean forward and lick at the sticky oily fluid. _If she does, I'll head butt her headache and all, _but she stood from where she was kneeling down in front of him, Dean watched her closely, wary of this strange young woman. "Your eyes, there're green. I told Daddee they might be."

"Wow fascinating," Dean's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Who the hell are you, where are my clothes and why am I trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey?" Dean demanded as he took in his surroundings, he was in some sort of barn suffering badly from years of neglect; the chain joining his manacled hands was connected to some sort of pulley that was attached to an overhead roof beam, his back against a beam supporting the one overhead.

He looked back at the girl she had struck a pose with her hands on the hips of her shapeless too large stained and dirty dress that possibly had once been white. "Well aren't you grouchy in the mawnin?"

The light coming from the open barn door behind her silhouetted her figure under the worn material, she was thin, painfully thin and Dean could see she her nipples pushing at the worn cloth noting that she was wearing no bra or underwear.

"Wouldn't you be if you were me?"

She ignored his remark, looking him up and down, then she sighed turned and walked to the open side of the double barn doors, it hung askew and looked in danger of toppling from the one hinge holding it into the barn. She began manhandling the drooping door closed, _she's gonna leave me here like this._ Dean's dry voice rang out through the barn. "Wait where are you going, aren't you going to untie me?"

She stopped pulling at the door and looked back at Dean, shaking her head she said, "I've got chores to do, but I'll be back real soon and then we'll have some fun." With that she pushed the door the rest of the way closed.

Dean didn't know what her definition of fun was, but he had a gut feeling that she would be the only one having any of it.

He had to try and get out before she came back. He looked more closely at the contraption he was manacled to again testing the strength of the chains; he had no feeling in his hands from the hours of being tied above his head, so it wasn't gonna hurt. All the chains were strong and the wooden beams one against his back and the one he was attached to were sturdy.

_Plan A was a bust;_ _so on to plan B. _Dean looked at his surroundings seeing if there was anything within reach that he could use to free himself with. He was in the middle of the old barn; to his left was a pile rusty farm machinery parts, to his right just inside the barn doors an old Dodge pickup was parked, the duco that had once been cream fighting a losing battle with the rust that had taken over most of the body like an alien plant life. With great difficulty Dean managed to twist himself far enough to see what was behind him, three empty animal stalls that hadn't housed any animals for some time, one of them was being used as a compost heap the smell of rotting vegetation ripe in the hot air of the barn. There was nothing within reach of his untied legs and feet. _So much for plan B._

_So on to plan C, damn it I don't have a plan C. _Dean let out a growl of frustration and shifted his legs on the hard dusty earthen floor. Bad idea as it awakened the pain in his foot that he had barely noticed after waking the second time in the presence of the underwear-less teen. 

He looked down at the offending extremity; he was shocked and didn't recognise what he saw. Nope _that's not my foot it can't be, my foot doesn't look like a swollen red football, _yellowish fluid leaked sluggishly from the jagged wounds encircling it at the ankle, _at least I think it's the ankle, hard to tell. _He tried wriggling his foot and the pain tripled, he hissed in agony and little starbursts swam around the periphery of his vision.

Taking a couple of deep shaky breaths Dean waited for the pain to settle the starbursts to dissipate before he again looked at his foot. _Yep it's definitely attached to me it could be broken and it looks like it's about to burst open and shower me with blood and pus and deflate like a popped balloon at a kid's birthday party. There's no way I'm going anywhere on that, even if I could find a way out of these chain which was not gonna happen any time soon._

He was in some deep crap, and no one knew he was even here, especially not Sam and that was the way he had planned it. _Bad idea Dean, guess I should have listened to Sam and waited until he was better._ _How long will it be until Sam realised he was in trouble? _

He hoped it was soon. Dean leaned his head back against the wooden beam and spoke to the dust motes swirling in a shaft of sun light coming through the warped boards of the barn. "Sorry Sammy I really screwed up this time."

**TBC....**

**To all the Sammy lovers, sorry there's no Sam in this chapter, but he will feature in the next one. All reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Sammy's back!!!

As always my beta is: msokiedokie.

**Chapter 6**

24 hours, that's how long it had been since Dean walked out of his room. When he hadn't shown up yesterday afternoon Sam wasn't worried. Dean had probably got down and dirty underneath his baby. Next to Sam the Impala was the most important thing in Dean's life. Sam joked about Dean's relationship with the car but didn't begrudge him his obsession with the hunk of metal and glass. Dean didn't have much of anything else, plus it was still a link to their father and the only place both of them called home.

Evening visiting hours came and went and no Dean. Sam had been trying all afternoon and into the evening to contact Dean on his cell, but each time failed to get a signal. If Dean was in Asheville he should be getting a signal, Asheville boasted several signal towers.

When the night nurse came in to check Sam's blood pressure and take his temperature he asked her. "Has there been any phone calls or messages left for me at the desk?"

"If there was they would have been put through to your room or someone would have relayed them to you."

"Yeah of course they would have."

The nurse must have heard something in his tone, she stopped what she was doing and looked at him, then asked. "Something wrong hun?"

"My brother he should have been here by now."

"Your brother, he tall, green eyes, a smile that lights up a room?"

Sam couldn't help himself he smiled; all the red-blooded females remembered Dean. "Yep that's him."

"I saw him last evening, pointed him in the direction of motel 6. I wouldn't worry about him; with those eyes and that smile he's probably hooked up with one of the local girls and forgotten all about you. I'm sure he'll be around in the morning."

After she'd gone Sam thought about what she'd said, she was most likely right; Dean did attract ladies like moths to a flame, but Sam couldn't shake the niggling worry in his gut and it had nothing to do with his appendix.

Sam spent a restless night dreams of Dean in various situations from chatting up a bevy of beauties at a bar to being waylaid and beaten to a bloody pulp by a group of the beauties boyfriends and husbands, and left lying in the bar parking lot.

Now he was worried it was 24 hours and Sam was trying for the fiftieth time since breakfast to call Dean's cell when the surgeon that had operated on him paid him a second visit.

She examined Sam's operation site and then removed the drainage tube next to the wound and covered it with gauze, read the notes the staff had made on his chart since her last visit. "Well you're making an excellent recovery, temperatures still a bit elevated, but that's to be expected."

"So doc when can I get out of here?"

"Give it 2 or 3 more days."

"2 or 3 days can't I be discharged today?"

"Sam I had to remove your appendix with a soup ladle to minimize the spread of infection, there's still a risk of peritonitis or worse septicemia, you need to stay on the IV antibiotics for another 24 to 36 hours."

"Can't you discharge me with a prescription?"

"We will in a couple of days."

Sam looked crestfallen his eyes downcast to the blanket covering his long legs.

The doctor sat on the side of the bed and placed her hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam what's so important that it can't wait a couple of days?"

Sam looked up at her, his hazel eyes a similar color to his brother's green ones shone with moisture. "An important business matter."

"Can't your brother take care of it?"

"This business requires both of us."

"I'm sorry Sam but it will have to wait."

She gave his shoulder a light squeeze before getting up. "I'll come by tomorrow."

Before the door had settled back into its frame behind her Sam threw back the bed covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed slowly he lowered his bare feet to the floor. He reached across his body to the IV that still tethered him to the bed; to this hospital, keeping him away from his brother. He worked the tape holding it place loose and pulled the IV catheter from the vein in the back of his hand ignoring the small circle of blood that followed it. Using the side of the bed for support and leverage he pushed himself to his feet, an uncomfortable pull on the incision reminding him of why he was here. He stood swaying and slightly bent forward waiting for the lightheadedness the change of position from vertical to horizontal had caused to pass.

He ventured a small step forward towards the tiny closet where his clothes were stored then another and 4 more until he was close enough to reach out and grasp the handle and pull the door open.

It took him longer than he would have liked but eventually he was dressed the discarded hospital gown lying across the disheveled bed. To get his boxers on he'd thrown them on the floor hooked his feet and ankles into them sat down gingerly on the chair next the closet then bend his knees up as far as he could until he could grab the waistband and pull them up the rest of the way. Getting the jeans on was even harder as the thick denim material didn't slide like the silky boxers, his exertions left him weak and shaky so he slipped his bare feet into his shoes not even attempting to put on his socks or tie his shoes the laces dangled and slapped against his shoes as he moved to the door, pulling it part way open Sam peered into the corridor, a nurse was just entering the room almost opposite his but the corridor itself was empty. A good time to pull the great escape as it was the patients rest time so no visitors roamed the corridor.

Sam pulled the door open wide and turned to his left where he saw the elevators were. Slowly he moved down the corridor the only obstacle left between him and the elevators was the nurses' station which he had to pass to get to them. He tried to stand as straight as the pull in his abdomen would allow as he passed the nurses' station out the corner of his eye he could see the only occupant was on the phone, from the one side of the conversation Sam could hear he gathered it was a friend or relative enquiring about a patient.

Once past the desk it was only a half dozen steps to the elevators, once there he pushed the down button stabbing at it repeatedly in a vain hope it would arrive at the more quickly, but knowing it didn't make any difference. He looked up at the red LCD numbers above the metal doors, one elevator was on the ground floor and the other on the fifth. He stared hard at the 5 willing it to change, behind him the nurse finished the phone call just as the other nurse came back to the desk.

"What did she want this time?" One asked.

"A bed pan." The other answered.

"I thought Dr. Paulson said she was to get out of bed to use the bathroom?"

The 5 blinked off and a second later the 4 blinked on.

"He did, but she refused saying if she didn't get a bed pan she'd just do it the bed."

"Maybe you should have let her and see how she likes sitting in it for awhile."

"I didn't think of that, I'll remember for next time."

The 4 blinked off and Sam looked to the 3, it blinked on and seconds later the doors began to part. He took an anxious step forward before the doors were open wide enough for his broad shoulders, he gasped as his shoulder collided with the right door sending pain shooting down to the operation site, his vision blurred as he stumbled the rest of the way into the thankfully empty elevator car.

Sam hoped the nurses hadn't heard his intake of breath or noticed as he bumbled his way into the car. He turned around and jabbed a trembling finger in the general direction of the button with L on it then looked up at the nurses' station neither were paying him any attention. He remained upright until the doors slid closed then he leaned heavily against the side of the elevator, sweating and breathing hard waiting for the pain and dizziness to ease.

When the doors opened on the lobby he had regained some of his composure and his nearly upright stance, he slowly made his way across the lobby towards the double doors leading to the hospital car parking lot.

Sam stopped a few paces outside the doors, a sudden indecision hitting him _what am I gonna do now? _He had no car and no money for a cab. The answer to Sam's unspoken question appeared as a dark blue Taurus pulled up at the curb and a man got quickly out he yanked open the back door reached in and helped a very pregnant and obviously in labor woman out of the car.

The couple moved past Sam, the man supporting the woman and speaking low saying what sounded like breath, breath, the woman waddling, huffing and panting, holding on to the man's arm in a white-knuckled grip with one hand the other supporting her distended belly. Sam looked over his shoulder at the couple as the doors slid closed behind them then back at the open invitation of the Taurus, the keys dangling from the ignition.

Sam took the last few steps towards his freedom and his way of finding Dean, he slammed the back door and slid carefully in behind the wheel, seconds later the tires screeching against the concrete he peeled out of the lot heading for? The night nurse had told him she'd pointed Dean to the motel 6, he'd start there, he was gonna find his brother and nothing was gonna stand in his way.

----- FBTW -----

When she returned she had an older man in tow, he was tall well built but his once handsome face showed dissipation from what looked to Dean to be years of an excess of alcohol, Dean assumed this was Wade Crocker, Mike Washington's words came back to him, _"That Wade he's a mean drunk, and he's drunk most of the time a cruel and vicious bastard." _This was Wade Crocker and the girl must be the daughter, Rae-Anne.

Wade stopped in front of Dean looking down at him for a few seconds before he said. "You kill that other fella' with that knife?"

Dean figured that when they'd found him and the dead werewolf he'd already changed back. "Yeah except when I killed him he wasn't a fella'." Dean answered looking up into the man's face.

"You think cuz I'm from Tennessee I'm some dumb ass? You kill him didn't you, and why did he have no clothes on?"

"You mean naked like me now?"

"He aimed a vicious kick at Dean's midsection, Dean saw it coming and tried to twist out of the way, the man's boot landed a stunning blow to his ribcage that left Dean gasping for breath. "I'll have none of that smart mouth from you boy, answer the question."

Dean looked at him through eyes filled with tears of pain before he got enough breath back to answer. "That animal that's been stalking the woods around here and killing livestock, well that was him."

He threw back his head and laughed, the girl joining in with a high-pitched giggle.

The man big man moved swiftly one second he was standing laughing and the next he was crouched down in front of Dean, his face close to Dean's, Dean could smell whiskey and the sour smell of unwashed teeth, Dean tried to turn his head away but Wade buried a hand in Dean's hair and pulled his head back to face him he had a knife in his other hand held up in Dean's line of sight. Dean recognized the knife it was his own silver Bowie knife that he'd used to stab the werewolf. "I pulled this outta him before I buried him," he turned the knife in his hand examining it, before continuing, "Nice knife think I'm gonna keep it."

He gave Dean's hair a vicious pull before he let go and got to his feet, tucking Dean's knife into the back of his belt, he turned to the girl and said "Rae-Anne sweetie you can play now."

"Thank you Daddee, will you haul him up for me?"

"Anything for you sweet pea."

Wade moved behind him, Dean heard the clink of a chain moments before the pressure on his tortured arms increased and he was pulled upwards the chain connected to his wrists slipping through the pulley above his head, as his legs left the ground his injured ankle brushed against the dirt floor the pain it caused set off a buzzing in his ears. When his senses cleared he was free hanging, his whole body weight pulling against his wrists and shoulders, his body swinging to and fro, his feet dangling inches above the barn floor blood rushed to his feet, his mangled ankle throbbed the pain increasing with every beat of his thundering heart.

Through the blood rushing past his ears Dean heard Rae-Anne say. "Thank you Daddee."

"Anything for you sweetie, now remember what you promised you've gotta make this one last."

"Yeah Daddee I remember."

"Okay then have fun." Dean heard the barn door drag as he closed it behind him.

Dean's body had twisted so he was facing the pile of old machinery. Rae-Anne came around from behind him and stood close to him looking him up and down, she was holding something the hand she had behind her back, with her other hand she reached out and trailed her fingers down his heaving sweat-soaked chest. "You sure are purdy; I think you're the purdyest one so far, we're gonna have some fun now, well I'm gonna, for you maybe not so much."

Dean wanted to tell her to go to hell but pain stabbed at him from everywhere, it was an effort to just keep breathing in and out leave alone talking with a psychotic obviously deranged teenager.

She stepped back and then pulled her arm from behind her back, in her hand she carried a whip, not a run of the mill whip an inch wide strip of leather with barbs attached half way down the length of it. She draped it over his left shoulder and drew it downwards. The barbs caught on his shoulder tearing the skin, each barb leaving more damage than the last in its wake.

She was waiting for him to cry out or some sign that she was causing him pain, _I'm not going to give the little bitch the satisfaction;_ He clenched his teeth together so hard he felt they might crack under the pressure.

She looked disappointed her smile turning to a look of fury, her pale eyes lit with anger. "Nothing to say green eyes? Let's see how long you can keep that up for when you're skin shreds and falls from your bones."

She moved around behind him, Dean heard the swish of the whip as it cut the air and tensed his muscles, the whip connected with his back the cruel barbs piercing into his skin, pain followed in a burning line forcing his breath from his lungs, before he had recovered the whip came down again, this time across his lower back, Dean bit back a cry grinding his teeth together and biting the inside of his cheek. The third lash curled around his side he groaned at that one, but didn't cry out.

It seemed Rae-Anne was getting frustrated with his stoic silence, the blows started coming faster and harder, Dean could hear her breathing hard from the effort she was putting into each lash of the whip, causing his body to sway forwards. The throbbing pain in his ankle and shoulders paled into insignificance as the whip bit into the now exposed muscles and nerve endings of his back. Dean lost count of the blows before the whip came down in the same spot for the third time and he could no longer hold back a cry of pain. She laughed at that but the blows didn't slacken, another few blows and his vision started to tunnel and the buzzing in ears was back his brain was shutting down. The pile of rusty farm equipment across from him shrunk to a pinprick before it disappeared altogether replaced by blackness and a blessed relief of pain.

The stranger's body went slack, he had passed out, she bought the whip down one last time. Breathing hard she examined her handy work, from his shoulders to his just below his waist the stranger was a mess of blood and gore, not a patch of unmarked skin remained, blood ran freely down over his buttocks and thighs. Shreds of bloody skin clung to barbs on the whip, she was pleased. She had made him cry out but it had taken longer than any of the others. She moved around his still swaying body, watching the tortured rise and fall of his muscular chest, she lifted his head cupping his chin in her hand. Blood covered his slightly parted lips and ran in a trickle from the corner of his mouth, from where he'd bitten his tongue or the inside of his mouth, while she was administering her fun.

She stood on tip toes and leaned into the stranger, she ran her hands down his bloody sides putting her face close to his she could feel the huff of his warm breath against her cheek, she put her lips on his in a kiss then licked away the blood from his face, savoring the salty metallic taste before she stepped away letting his head fall back onto his chest.

She went to where the chain was looped around the metal stake keeping the man hanging and released it, the chain slipped noisily through the pulley the stranger's seemingly lifeless body fell to the barn floor in bloody pile, Rae-Anne rewound the chain back around the metal stake so that the strangers arms were pulled taut not quite so restricted as before but so that he could move no more than a foot in any direction. In his condition he wasn't going anywhere.

She knelt down in front of him smiling as she ran her hand through his damp hair. "I'll be back later green eyes."

**TBC**

**Thanks for reading.**

_**Silvertayl**_


	7. Chapter 7

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**STORY SUMMARY:**

They were heading to Tennessee on the trail of a werewolf; but on the way Sam gets ill and has to be hospitalized. With Sam in good hands and recovering, Dean continues on to Tennessee to hunt the werewolf, but when he fails to return, Sam now recovered sets out on a desperate hunt of his own to find his brother.

**AUTHORS NOTES:**

I apologize for my tardiness in getting this chapter written and posted. I had all good intentions of having it up before Christmas. (The best laid plans of mice and women). My sister and beta informed me it's been 5 weeks since I posted chapter 6, eek. They don't call this time of year the silly season for nothing. I hope it was worth the wait?

Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 6 and to all the new readers who put _FROM BAD TO WORSE _on alert.

So Sam made the great escape from the hospital and not a moment too soon as Dean is in big trouble. Here's chapter 7, enjoy.

Beta as always is _msokiedokie._

**Chapter 7**

The bored looking motel receptionist's face brightened when he came in. She looked him up and down an appreciating smile lifting the corner of her sulky mouth. She told him that she hadn't seen Dean since yesterday morning and room service said his bed hadn't been slept in when she went in to clean this morning. She also told him that Dean had paid for the room for four nights, which meant that he had every intention of staying there and being around while Sam was in the hospital. As Sam turned to leave she said, "Hey stretch, I'm off soon, how about you take me out to lunch?"

Sam politely told her he had a prior engagement adding. "Some other time." _God I sounded just like Dean._

Making sure no one was around he picked the lock on room 7. The room was tidy with just a few of Dean's things around. There was a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt folded neatly at the end of the bed closest to the door. Old habits die hard; at least they did with his big brother. Probably out of habit Dean had taken a room with two beds and as always had taken the bed closest to the door. Always keeping himself between possible danger and his little brother. The folded clothes were Dean's usual sleeping attire, obviously folded by the cleaning staff, because there was no way Dean had left them like that they usually sat in a crinkled heap on or under the bed until he pulled them on the next night. Sam's laptop was on the table still in the laptop sleeve half a dozen papers with the research of the werewolf hunt shoved in beside it. On further investigation Sam found both his and Dean's khaki duffle bags in the bottom of the wardrobe and Dean's toiletry bag open on the vanity in the bathroom, but there was no Dean and no weapons bag.

So Dean wasn't at the motel, _of course he wasn't that would be too easy;_ and when have things ever been easy for Winchesters? Wherever Dean was he had all the weapons with him.

A feeling of utter exhaustion and weariness overcame him. He felt feverish, dizzy and sick he pulled the chair out from the table and sat down carefully, running shaking hands through his hair he sighed, dropping his head into his hands as he rested his elbows on the table. He didn't need to be a genius to know Dean had gone on to hunt the werewolf, alone. _Stupid, stubborn bastard. He went alone even after he'd promised me he would wait until I was out of hospital. _Sam's eyes fell to the table and the dog-eared corners of the sheets of A4 paper poking out of the laptop sleeve; he pulled them out and scanned the research.

After reading through the research his energy returned with a rush of adrenaline surging through his bloodstream, he quickly gathered all of their belongings from the rooms double checked to make sure he hadn't left anything behind piled it all into the trunk of the stolen Taurus and headed west towards Tennessee Sam thought he knew where his brother was, at least he knew where to start looking. He was going to find Dean.

----- FBTW -----

"I'm not giving any interviews to the press about this, so you've wasted your time coming down here." Sheriff Washington said as he thrust Sam's press ID back at him.

"But sheriff the public have a right to know what's going on here, if I could just have a few words, if I go back to my editor without a story he's gonna fire me, I need this job, please sheriff." Sam gave him that look the look Dean called his puppy dog eyes.

Mike Washington looked into the pleading sensitive hazel eyes of the young man in front of him, before examining him critically. High spots of color on his cheeks accentuated how pale the rest of his face was, _the kid looks ill_. Mike thought about the stolen vehicle report that Adam had put on his desk an hour ago. Mike dragged his eyes away from Sam's face glancing over Sam's shoulder through the window onto the street beyond. "Alright, take a seat in my office I'll be with you in a minute." The sheriff said motioning towards the open door behind him.

Sam gave a grateful nod of his head and made his way slowly past the sheriff and into the office.

Sam lowered himself into the chair in front of the desk unbeknownst to him the very chair Dean had sat in yesterday. He could hear the hushed tones of sheriff saying something to the deputy. At any other time Sam would have realized that he'd made a stupid critical error and the sheriff was suspicious. With shaking fingers and a blue and white handkerchief Sam dabbed at the perspiration lining his forehead and his upper lip.

The sheriff came in closing the door behind him, he sat behind the desk. He was a well built handsome African American with kind warm brown eyes. _He reminds me of someone. _"Fire away." He said.

"So the FBI is on the case?" Sam asked stuffing his handkerchief into his pocket and pulling out his note book and pen.

"How did you know that?"

"Let's just say I have my sources."

"Right."

"You spoke to agent Eastwood yesterday?" Sam was fishing to see whether Dean had been here as Sam suspected and hoped he had.

"Your sources tell you that too?"

"You could say that, agent Eastwood and I have crossed paths a few times." Sam continued before the sheriff could interrupt. "So three deaths, two disappearances cattle mutilations, a wild animal, a wolf maybe?"

"There are no wolves in Tennessee, hasn't been for a long time."

"Maybe a satanic cult?"

The sheriff looked at him strangely, before answering. "A satanic cult, only the press would think of such a thing.

"The FBI have any leads?"

"I can't divulge that information until agent Eastwood finishes his investigation."

"Come on sheriff you must have some ideas about what's behind these attacks."

"Put it this way, the FBI don't believe it's an animal and I'm inclined to agree, but it's no cult either, so if you-" He was interrupted by the buzz of the phone. He picked it up, saying, "Yes Adam."

He could hear a tinny voice coming through the line but couldn't hear what was being said. "I suspected as much, okay thanks I'll take care of it." The sheriff put down the phone stood and came around the desk to stand to the side of Sam but facing him.

At least he knew Dean had been here, if he could get the sheriff to tell him where Dean had gone from here, if he even knew. But a sudden feeling something wasn't right swamped him he had to get out of here now. Anxious to be gone he stood up quickly, too quickly.

Pain lanced through his stomach, he gasped, the sheriff's face wobbled in and out of focus, his hearing faded to a high-pitched buzzing he reached out blindly and gripped the edge of the desk to keep himself from going down to his knees. The next thing he felt was a strong hand wrapped around his forearm forcing him back into the chair. With the buzzing now fading and dissipating, he opened his eyes. _When did I close them?_ The sheriff's worried dark face swam into focus his deep worried voice said. "You with me? Here, drink this."

Something was pressed into his hand. Sam looked from the sheriff to the small white plastic cup filled with water in his hand, the hand that trembled as he lifted the cup to his mouth and took a half dozen sips. The sheriff took the cup from Sam's hand and put it down on the desk. He leaned back against the desk crossed his legs over each other at the ankles one dark hand on either side of him lightly curled around the edge of the desk.

"So you ready to tell me the truth now, you see while we were talking I had deputy Mastrone run the plates on that car out front, seems it was stolen from outside the Mission hospital in Asheville earlier today, around the same time as one of the patients went AWOL, a certain Sam Eastwood, recovering from an appendectomy, now he wouldn't by any chance be related to an FBI agent by the name of Dean Eastwood who I spoke to yesterday, would he, Sam?" Then he added with a raised eyebrow. "That is your name isn't it… Sam?"

He'd made a rookie mistake, a mistake a seasoned hunter like himself should never have made; Sam put it down to his current compromised health combined with his worry over his missing brother. Sam looked up into the kind concerned eyes of Sheriff Mike Washington, _what would Dean do? _Sam had a feeling Dean would have liked the sheriff and decided to take a chance, he was going to tell the sheriff the truth, an abbreviated version of the truth, enough so he could convince the big man to help him and not throw him into a jail cell. He had to admit he needed help to find Dean and the sheriff was the last person to see his brother.

"Sheriff, I need your help."

"Why should I help you? What I should do is throw you in a holding cell."

"Please sheriff hear me out and then you can decide if you wanna help me or lock me up."

----- FBTW -----

Dean awoke to the distant sound of thunder and pain everywhere and with that the realization he was still in the barn. The worst of the pain seemed to be all across his back a prickling biting type of pain that felt like thousands of ants crawling over his back sinking their tiny pincers into his flesh. The next worst was his ankle setting up a pulsing hot throb. A throb that was matched by the one in his head, arms and shoulders**, even his teeth hurt.**

**Dean had hoped he was in a motel bed with Sam slumbering away on the other bed and not in the barn and that had gone on before was all a God awful nightmare.**

**Dean groaned and reluctantly opened his eyes, knowing what he was going to see. It took a few moments for his vision to clear; his stinging gritty eyeballs seemed coated in a sticky film of some sort. **The interior of the barn was darker, slithers of the last rays of sunlight finding their way through the warped boards which meant he had been unconscious for many hours.

Thunder sounded again this time closer.

**He was lying on his side on the hard packed earth, underneath him his own blood had mingled with the earth turning it into a paste that clung to his side. His manacled hands a pale blur stretched out in front of him at least he wasn't strung up any more, but the pain from the hours how many hours he couldn't guess his arms had been pulled taunt above his head in that unnatural position was a constant reminder.**

**His** lacerated wrists were covered with blood dried rivulets of dark red snaking down his arms. His eyes followed the path of the chain attached to the manacles lifting taut and stretched to the pulley high above him.

The barn darkened further as the approaching storm drew closer, the temperature dropping rapidly.

How long would it be before she came back, he couldn't take another beating like that, it would kill him. An involuntary shiver shook his body whether from the coolness of the barn or fear he wasn't sure maybe a little of both. The uncontrolled movement lighting pain in the exposed nerve-ending across his back.

A stray ray of sunlight pierced the gloom hitting the window of the old Dodge reflecting back across the barn floor. A glint of metal caught his eye for a moment before the ray of sunlight was snuffed out there was something about six feet away from where he was lying. Dean lifted his head squinting at the object, trying to make out what it was; _it looks like…_, _could my luck have changed for the better._ Hope flared briefly then faded as he realized tied as he was even though he had more slack in the chain than before it was out of reach, _unless…. _

Gritting his aching teeth against the inevitable pain he took hold of the chain above the manacles with both hands and lifted his himself up into a sitting position, the screaming of his back matched by the screaming in his head, nearly sending him back into blackness.

After the pain had settled to a dull roar, he braced himself for the next wave of pain that was inevitable when he moved his right leg, he looked down at the offending and offended limb and wondered could that thing really be attached to him the swollen mangled mess making him want heave, _this is gonna hurt, here goes. _Taking a deep breath and tensing the muscles of his thigh and calf he slid the limb over the earthen floor, the few seconds it took to get the leg pointing in the direction of the of the metal object the sun had highlighted albeit briefly left him drained and panting with the pain.

Thunder rolled over the barn rattling the shaky foundations. The storm was almost overhead. A flash of lightning lit the interior for a brief moment before he was cast back into near darkness.

When he had the other leg in position he rolled himself back onto his side and began pulling and pushing his battered body forward feet first inch by painful inch keeping his right leg as still as possible. Sharp stones embedded in the earth dug into him cutting into his thigh and hip.

Compared to the other wounds covering his body it was like a splinter and a small price to pay for a chance at freedom.

He was within a foot of his target when the chain pulled taught, _damn it, I'm short. _

Pulling against the manacles he stretched his left leg out yet further, wriggling his toes into the dirt, the darkness had concealed the object he now aimed blindly for he prayed he was close to the spot.

Dean was just beginning to think that he was in the wrong spot when it revealed its presence stabbing into the flesh in between his questing toes, clamping his toes around it, his back muscles burning and jumping as his back was stretched to its limit the damaged blood vessels breaking open fresh blood ran warm across his back.

With the cool thin metal firmly between his toes he pulled himself back relieving the pressure on his arms and back, he bent his leg and peered at the object, another flash of lightning showing him what he wanted to see, he sighed with relief it was just the thing he needed a hairpin, fallen from Rae-Anne's birds nest hair as she had beaten him senseless.

_Now all I gotta do is get it from my toes to my hands… easy, not._

The first drops of rain pattered against the tin roof and soon turned to a load almost deafening roar as it pounded the worn rusting metal.

Electricity crackled through the air as another flash of lightning was closely followed by the loudest roll of thunder so far. The storm was right overhead.

Taking in as deep a breath as his battered back would allow, he wriggled back closer to the chain the hairpin still clamped between his toes. When he was directly underneath the pulley he bent his leg up as close to his chest as he could grateful for a naturally flexible body and strong muscles. Taking another deep breath he flicked his foot inward at the same time releasing his hold on the pin. It landed a few inches away to his right side. With a burst of adrenaline coursing through him Dean rolled onto his stomach fighting the pain and dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him then turned his head to the side and extended his head as close to the pin as he could, after a couple of failed attempts he managed to get his teeth around the pin along with a mouth full of earth. Breathing through his nose he rolled back over trying to keep his back off the earth. Much as he had earlier he grasped the chain above the manacles and using the already tortured muscles in his shoulders and arms pulled himself up and back, lifting his butt off the ground until his mouth was in line and close to his hands. _I gotta do this right cuz if I drop it I don't think I've got the strength to do it a second time._

The lightning flashed almost constantly and the thunder shook the barn; the walls vibrated with its fury the rain still pounding mercilessly against the roof breaching the old metal through numerous holes hitting the earth in a constant stream and bouncing up mud-filled splashes.

Trembling with pain, blood loss and near to physical exhaustion he transferred the pin into his right hand, twisting his hand to get the pin into the lock on the closest manacle. After a bit of fumbling the end of the pin slid into the lock, a few seconds later there was click and the manacle slipped open, not stopping to celebrate his success, with his now freed hand he made short work of the second manacle. Only then did he rub at his lacerated bruised wrists, looking around the barn to see if there was something he could use as support, his eyes falling on the pile of discarded machine parts. In amongst them were odd pieces of timber.

Using his elbows and forearms he dragged his protesting pain filled body across the now mostly damp muddy floor towards the pile, passing under several small rain waterfalls. The rain water cooling the burning stinging pain in his back, diluting his blood and sending rivers of pink down his sides to mix with the mud underneath him that now coated wherever his body touched the muddy ground.

_This whole escaping process is taking way too long._ Dean didn't know how much time he had before that she devil came back, but it was unlikely she would venture out in this storm; he had to get out before it passed.

Finally reaching the pile he grasped the end of a piece of worn graying timber close to the bottom not able to strain and reach up too high, splinters buried themselves into his palm. He pulled hard willing the pile not to come tumbling down on top of him. The pile shifted alarmingly as the timber moved in his grip. He held his breath as he continued to pull, letting it out in a whoosh as the wood slid free, the pile remained standing. The timber piece was an off-cut about four feet long and 2x4._That will do nicely; I can also use it as a weapon if I need too._

Using the wood Dean forced himself into a crouched semi standing position; trying to ignore the lightheadedness, pain and the fresh flow of blood along his back the movement caused. Distributing his weight between the makeshift crutch and his good leg while resting the injured one gently on the ground, he took a tentative step towards the barn doors unsure for the first few seconds if his jelly legs would even support him, a white hot pain shot up from his injured ankle but to his surprise he stayed on his feet, so he took another step and another until he reached the doors, pushing on the closest one until it was open enough for him to step through resting his shoulder against the jam for a brief moment gathering himself to keep moving forward to freedom and Sam.

The rain was falling straight down in a solid sheet the stray drops gathering on top of the door frame splattering his face and muddy chest; reluctantly he shoved away from the support of the door and into the rain.

Within seconds his skin was soaked, the mud and blood coating him washing away down his shivering body. Dean lifted his face to the soothing stream, opening his mouth and letting the rain fall into it.

The rain revived him a little; he blinked the water out of his eyes, his eyelashes clumping together with moisture and looked around at his surroundings. Being unconscious when he was brought here this was the first time he had seen outside of the barn.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky and for a split second he saw in front of him and slightly to the left of the barn a farmhouse, it was a good distance away. Instinct told him the way out of here was on the other side of the farmhouse; he would have to pass it to get out of this godforsaken place.

Another roll of thunder filled the air around him. The amount of time between the lightning and the thunder was getting longer that meant the storm was moving away. Dean knew he had make good his escape while the noise of the storm and the rain still raged; as it was good cover and it was unlikely that bitch would come out in it. If he hurried he hoped to put a good bit of distance between himself and the farm before the storm moved on.

In the darkness he could only make out the outline of the farmhouse, leaning heavily on the wooden stick he took to steps towards it and then stopped dead as a rectangle of light appeared from the house and a figure was silhouetted against the light.

Dean knew it was her. _Damn it too late. _He pivoted on his good leg turning back to the barn using the barn as extra support he made his way as fast as he could along the front of the barn away from the house, reaching the corner he turned down the side still hugging the old boards, when he got to the juncture of the back and side wall he stopped and looked around. _Which way? _The lightning flashed again showing him the way. With adrenaline once again pumping through his system and without hesitation Dean pushed away from the barn and angled to his left, towards the cornfields the lightning had given up.

He had got no more than fifty yards when he heard her high pitched anger-filled yell, muffled slightly by the rain. "Noooo, Daddee, Daddee he's gone."

**TBC**

**Will Dean in his weakened condition make good his escape? Or will Rae-Anne and Wade recapture him? Will a sick Sam be able to convince the sheriff to help in the search for his brother? If not will the sheriff arrest him for stealing the car?**

**These burning questions will be answered in chapter 8. So stay tuned!**

**Thanks for reading, please review. **

_**Silvertayl**_


	8. Chapter 8

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**  
DISCLAIMER:  
**You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:  
**Thanks to all who read and reviewed chapter 7 and so many new story alerts, wow. Welcome to all the new readers. Please leave a review if you feel so inclined. I'm pleased the delay didn't dull your interest in my story.

Some of the questions posed at the end of the last chapter will be answered in this one.

Oh and by the way Dean is still naked, enjoy.

Beta is still _msokiedokie._

**Chapter 8**

The rain was easing and the sky lighter now. Dean realized it wasn't as late as he thought; the intensity of the thunderstorm had led him to believe it was almost night; but in fact it was only maybe late afternoon.

He limped and stumbled on towards the corn fields, with each step leaning more heavily on his makeshift crutch. He daren't look back to see if he was being pursued by his tormentors, so he kept his eyes on the slowly oh so slowly approaching corn, dancing and swaying in the breeze left by the departing storm. He was nearly there. _If I can make it that far before being run down then I might have a chance of staying hidden, until I can think of something else or until they give up the hunt. _He knew he was being over optimistic to think they would give up on finding him; they had too much at stake to let him get away.

Ahead of him in the distance behind the corn fields and the stand of trees behind them the lightning flashed, the thunder followed some ten seconds later distance lessening the rumble. The storm had lost its intensity and was moving away to the west the same direction Dean was headed.

Finally he reached the corn. He half dived half fell into the tall rows of green. He lay there for a moment panting, shivering and way beyond exhausted.

_I have to get deeper into the corn. _On elbows and knees he crawled forward dragging his wooden stick with him. It was an awkward way to traverse the sturdy stems but he was out of sight and the weight was off his ankle. He turned to his right and pushed through the dense wall, his ankle caught in between two stalks sending waves of agony up his leg. He ground his teeth together so as not to cry out and give away his position then continued on.

The rain had lessened to a drizzle, drops of moisture gathered on the broad leaves above him before plopping on to his naked already soaked body.

As he crawled he thought about the last book he'd read, it was awhile ago, years in fact. Stephen King's The Stand, one particular line kept rolling around in his head. Mother Abigail saying, "Rat's in the corn.

_Man I hope there are no rats in this corn, I hate rats, they're right up there with flying._

He turned again this time to the left and continued on. He'd only gone a few meters when his knee slipped out from under him, sending him sprawling face first into the soaking ground the movement jarred his ankle, he lay there fighting off waves of pain and dizziness.

To his left there was the sound of movement and the rustling of the corn stalks as someone pushed through the tall wet stalks only a couple of meters away, the sounds brought him back to sudden clarity.

Still flat against the ground he turned his head in that direction and waited, all he could see was the verdant wall of corn stems as they rose from the moist earth. The movement stopped and Dean could sense whoever was there Rae-Anne or Wade listening waiting for him to make some kind of noise to betray his whereabouts. After what seemed like an eon but was only mere seconds the rustling started again but was moving away.

Heaving a sigh of relief and stifling a groan of pain Dean got back to his knees with his stick still clutched in his hand he turned again to his right, hoping he was heading away from them and not into the path of the other half of the deadly duo.

The rain had stopped completely now and the air close to the ground was hot and thick with humidity, it felt like it did when you were breathing a sauna bath, he continued to push forward. _Maybe I should stay where I am. If I can lay low until dark, another hour, maybe I can make a break back to the house and from there to the road._

The thought had barely filled his mind when a pair of old dirty scuffed boots appeared in front of him stopping him dead in his tracks, the smell of wet leather now filled his nose. Dean's eyes moved from the boots to skinny pale ankles, then equally pale and boney knees, up past the raincoat dark with rain wrapped around the skinny body to the cruel face half hidden by stringy wet dripping hair. She had a shot gun pointed at him, the business end about two inches from his nose.

Her pale colorless eyes pinned him then she smiled that wicked smile Dean had come to know well in their brief but painful acquaintance. "You didn't think you could get away did you green eyes, you've been very naughty, now you must be punished." She never looked away and her smile never altered as she yelled in an earsplitting grating voice, making Dean cringe. "Daddee I found him, he's here."

Dean looked down at the ground fisting his hands in frustration, his right hand closed around the wood. Looking back up at her holding her eyes he lifted and swung the piece of wood in the same motion, the wood connected with a thud to the outside of her leg, knocking her off balance with a squeal she fell onto her side, landing with a whoosh as the air was forced from her lungs.

Dean had no time to dwell on his small victory, he sensed movement behind him, rolling to his side he brought his makeshift batten round aiming at the new threat, Wade.

The wood was knocked from his hand in a jolting blow sending a wave of pain from his stinging fingers up his arm to his elbow. Wade had deflected his attempted blow with an identical rifle to the one Rae-Anne carried.

Stunned and breathing heavy, Dean looked up into the barrel and then to Wade's face twisted and ugly with anger and hatred.

Wade took a step forward and planted his booted foot down on Dean's bad ankle. Dean couldn't stop the scream of agony that erupted from his mouth as pain beyond pain shot up his leg to his groin. Through a haze of pain that seemed to be affecting his eyesight, he heard Wade say. "Boy did you hurt my baby girl, you're gonna be sorry you did that, no one hurts my baby… no one."

He lifted the rifle and brought the butt down into Dean's face. A flash of white hot pain seemed to pierce to the core of his brain, then nothing.

----- FBTW -----

The storm had passed away to the west leaving the air moist and sticky. The late afternoon sun had even come out for a brief while before it sank behind the horizon chasing the storm clouds. Everything outside the sheriff's office window had sparkled and glistened for a few minutes. Sam wished he could mirror the sparkle, but truth be told he couldn't muster any sparkle he felt like crap. He hadn't felt this bad since… 3 days ago, _is it only 3 days? _

With every passing minute his anxiety for Dean grew; he was hot and clammy his skin felt like it was on fire, his stomach churned with nausea. He had to keep dabbing at the perspiration that continually sprang from the pores on his face and neck. He was still seated in the sheriff's office, he'd been here for nearly 2 hours sipping on the cool water from the office water cooler and trying to convince the sheriff that he wasn't an escaped lunatic that all he had told him was true and still trying to enlist his help in finding Dean.

Sam glanced out the window again, darkness was falling, the moon would be out in less than 2 hours.

The sheriff spoke drawing Sam's attention back to him. "So you and your brother hunt the supernatural and you're telling me that the thing responsible for these deaths and disappearances is a werewolf?" Sheriff Washington said in disbelief as he paced beside the desk. Then added under his breath. "I can't believe I just said that."

Sam looked at his broad back as he paced away from him. "For the deaths and cattle mutilations yeah, for the disappearances maybe not."

The sheriff turned and looked hard at Sam. "You know I should lock you up for grand theft auto and for being a lunatic."

"Sheriff my brother is the only family I have. He went after the werewolf on his own because I was laid up in hospital, but I think something went wrong, if he isn't dead already he's in big trouble I can feel it and another thing there's only three nights until the full moon, if I don't put a silver bullet in the werewolf's heart before that then I won't get another chance for another month."

Mike continued his pacing, he considered himself a pretty good judge of character and something was telling him that Sam was telling the true, as crazy as his story was. _I liked that kid Dean, hell I like both of 'em. Could any of this be true?_ He turned back to Sam, _the kid looks like crap_; _he should be back in hospital._ "I could also arrest your brother for impersonating a federal officer."

"Yeah well if he's alive, you can arrest us both." Sam dabbed at the perspiration on his upper lip and ran the blue and white handkerchief down his neck.

The sheriff plopped down into his chair, laced his fingers together leaning his head back he sighed and looked at the ceiling.

Sam pressed on not sure whether the sheriff was coming around. "When Dean was here did he tell you or give you any indication of where he was going from here?"

The sheriff shook his head before saying. "No he-" He stopped suddenly, shot forward in his chair and leaned across the desk. "He did seem interested in one of the local properties."

Sam also leaned forward. "This property is it in the area of the attacks and disappearances?"

"Yeah dead center I'll show you." He got to his feet and went to the map of Tennessee on the wall, Sam got to his feet much more slowly than the last time he had tried it and went and stood beside the sheriff.

The sheriff pointed a long brown finger to the area of different colored map pins. "This is the area of the murders and where I found the missing men's cars. Then he stabbed the same finger at an area adjacent to the pins this is the Crocker place."

"Seems the most likely place to start," Sam looked at the sheriff trying on the puppy dog eyes again adding, "so you gonna arrest me or you gonna let me go and find my brother?"

"Oh you're not going anywhere…" Sam looked crest fallen, the sheriff continued, "not without me anyway and besides you shouldn't even be outta bed, look at you, you can hardly stand up straight."

Sam gave him a crooked smile of relief, saying. "So you're gonna help me? Thank you sheriff, I appreciate it."

"When we find Dean, _**alive,**_ I'm still reserving the right to arrest the pair of you."

"Fair enough."

"And one more thing, for God's sake call me Mike."

----- FBTW -----

Regaining consciousness was almost as painful as the actions that had put him there. It wasn't helped by the sharp slap striking his right cheek. Pain vibrated through his head the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth.

Dean groaned and reluctantly forced his eyes open. He blinked a couple of times bringing the two figures in front of him into focus. Rae-Anne had her hands on her hips a look of satisfaction on her face her wet raincoat hanging open revealing the same dirty dress she had on earlier.

Wade stood beside her, his wet hair plastered to his head rain water dripped off the ends onto the collar and the already wet shoulders of shirt. He was breathing heavy and his face was pulled into a scowl of hatred.

It didn't take Dean long to realize why Wade was out of breath, he had just finished reattaching him to the manacles and chain and hauling him back up. Dean groaned at the familiar pull on his wrists and shoulders and now added to that the new aches and pains he had acquired as Wade had dragged him back to the barn. Dean couldn't feel his ankle, the whole area felt strangely numb. _That can't be good._

Wade backhanded him again, not for any particular reason just because he could.

The slap sent Dean's head to the side, something sharp cut into his neck. _This is new, looks like I've got a matching necklace to go with my bracelets. _The metal collar was tight around his throat pulling back and up; the hard, sharp edge cutting into the skin under his jaw bringing more of his rapidly diminishing blood supply to the surface. It felt like it too was attached to a chain and to the beam above him. It was partially cutting off his air supply. He swallowed the metal pushing further into his flesh and putting pressure on his Adams apple, making him choke and gasp as he tried to fill his starving lungs.

If he relaxed at all or lost consciousness again he feared he would strangle to death. _Maybe I should let it happen. _Dean's physical and mental strength was compromised but that, that wasn't an option, never would be. Sam was always telling him he was the strongest person he knew. _Well Sammy that strength is being sorely tested._

Wade turned to Rae-Anne and smiled. "I'm going back to the house, have fun sweet pea, don't be too long I'm hungry for my dinner."

"Thank you Daddee, I won't be long."

Wade turned and walked towards the barn door Dean watched him go. Wade still had Dean's Bowie knife tucked into the waist of his pants. At the door he turned and looked back at Dean. Dean saw the sky behind Wade was nearly dark, night was falling. Wade smiled and then laughed before leaving, the sound of his laughter fading as he walked away, fading like Dean's hope.

Rae-Anne shrugged out of her raincoat letting it fall to the ground. Dean was pleased to see an angry red mark the skin broken a drying trickle of blood on her leg where he's hit her with the wood.

She spoke as she slowly circled him. "You've been a bad boy, I'm going to punish you for trying to get away," she stopped behind him, "let's see… yes this is just the thing." There was a metallic clinking sound and then she was back in front of him. Dean's eyes widened when he saw what she had in her hands, a length of chain one end coated with a rust colored stain. Dean recognized it as dried blood. He swallowed convulsively, knowing he couldn't survive this, nor in his weakened condition.

Seeing his reaction a glint of malicious cruelty lit her pale eyes. She pulled the length of chain through her fingers. "What's up green eyes, y'all not scared of a little chain are yah?"

Dean couldn't drag his eyes away from the chain, the dried blood flaking off and zigzagging its way to the ground as she continued to pull it through her bony fingers.

"Okay its punishment time. I wanna hear screams coming from that purdy mouth." She wrapped one end of the chain around her hand, swinging the chain in a circle, before drawing it back and bringing it down against the cringing flesh over his rib cage.

Dean felt his ribs give way under the blow, the pain was excruciating, she got her wish. Dean couldn't stop the cry of anguish that erupted from his mouth.

She laughed delightedly. "That's it; I knew you could do it."

His breathe came in shuddering pain-filled pants, the collar cutting his skin and cutting off his oxygen.

The second blow shattered his left knee cap; Dean cried out again; she laughed harder.

The next blow had the chain wrapping around his waist like a python, squeezing his lungs further and reopening the lacerations on his back.

He didn't know if he cried out again, he didn't think he had enough oxygen left for that, but he heard Rae-Anne laughing. Her laughter following him into blessed welcome darkness. _Bye Sammy, sorry I let you down, I love you bro'._

**TBC…**

**I know what you're thinking please don't leave it there? Well guess what I'm leaving it there. Yes with an evil cliffhanger.**

**So our boys are both in bad shape, but at least Mike is onboard now, way to go Mike. In the next chapter Sam and Mike set out on a rescue attempt, but, are they too late?**

**Thanks for reading please review.**

**Happy AUSTRALIA DAY to all you Aussie SUPERNATURAL fans.**


	9. Chapter 9

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:  
**You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:  
**So here we have chapter 9, a nice long one for your reading pleasure.  
Hello to all the new readers and welcome back to all who have been with me on this journey.

Will Sam and Mike find a beaten and bloody Dean alive or are they too late?  
Read on to find out, enjoy.

Thanks as always to my beta _msokiedokie._

**Chapter 9**

Sam wound down the car window letting the early evening breeze cool his hot skin and dry the ever present perspiration coating his face and neck, he felt nauseous and shaky. It was only the hope that with the passing miles he was that much closer to Dean that kept him going and was keeping him from giving in to an ailing, failing body and curling up in a sweaty heap.

He and Mike were speeding towards the Crocker place in one of the county sheriff's vehicles. Sam only spoke when Mike asked him a question and most of those answers were monosyllable. Along with the nausea, anxiety gnawed at his stomach growing as the rural scenery flashed by the open window; he could sense rather than see Mike's surreptitious sidelong looks at him.

Mike seemed to be genuinely concerned about him and from the way he talked about his meeting with Dean had an equally genuine fondness for his brother.

Sam glanced down at the luminous dial of his watch, for the tenth time in five minutes, about 30 minutes before the moon rose.

"So regular bullets are no good on a werewolf, has to be silver?"

"Regular bullets will slow it down weaken it somewhat but mostly just piss it off; to kill it has to be a silver bullet to the heart." Not a question that could be answered in one word.

"You got some silver bullets hanging around then?" Mike said with wry humor.

Sam sighed before answering. "That's the first problem Dean has all our weapons with him in the car, so if we find Dean we find the car and the silver bullets."

"Oh I see," Mike was silent for a few seconds; he made a left turn onto a dirt road before continuing, "The car is that the Chevy I saw him in yesterday?"

"Yeah that's Dean's baby, he rebuilt her after she got totaled a couple of years ago."

"Nice car, an American classic."

The only sound inside the car was low hum of the engine.

Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw him glance at him again. "What's the second?"

Sam glanced across the dark interior of the car at Mike's classic African profile silhouetted in the reflection from the lights on the dash, puzzled. "The second what?"

"The second problem?"

"Oh yeah that, well we gotta find Dean, find the car, and find the silver bullets before the moon rises."

"Which is when?"

Sam looked down again at his watch, "28 minutes."

"Right almost there."

10 seconds later Mike pulled the car onto the muddy shoulder of the road and pointed through the window screen at the almost obscured track leading off at an angle to the left. "The Crocker place is a mile and half maybe 2 up there, think we should go on foot from here, we don't want to announce our arrival, besides it's quicker to cut through the woods." His eyes slid to Sam's face. "You sure you're up to this? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine, let's do it." Sam was struck by how much he sounded like Dean at that moment.

Sam reached for the door handle but Mike stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Wait Sam take this," Sam turned back to him. He was holding the butt of a sheriff's issue handgun out towards him. Sam hadn't seen where it had come from and Mike still had his own gun holstered at his waist. "The bullets aren't silver but it's better than nothing."

Sam looked from the gun to what he could see of Mike's face in the darkness. After such a brief acquaintance Mike trusted him enough to give him a weapon. He felt the sudden prick of tears at the back of his eyes. He gave a lopsided smile, took the proffered gun and murmured, "Thanks."

Mike produced 2 flashlights from the glove compartment, he handed one to Sam, before getting out.

Sam followed suite, pushing the gun into the belt at back of his jeans, with a rush of adrenaline at the feeling that he was now even closer to finding Dean; he barely felt the pain pulling in his side the nausea, vision that blurred in and out, feverish heat and perspiration lining his upper lip and forehead.

Mike shone his flashlight at the brush to the rear and the left of the car. "If we cut through here it's more or less a straight route to the house. With that he pushed through the trees Sam pointed his flashlight down at the ground just to the rear of Mike's heels and followed him.

----- FBTW -----

The ground was uneven, damp and slippery from the earlier storm, any tracks that had been made before that would be now nonexistent. Mike was in front of him but even so Sam was aware that they were following a vague trail. He panned his light around, it bounced off the branches and limbs of the trees on either side of them, making them look like withered arms reaching out to him.

Mike kept up a steady pace, shooting the occasional look back over his shoulder as if to reassure himself Sam was still with him.

He stopped suddenly; Sam barely pulled himself up before he ran into his broad back.

Sam saw his light pointed at the ground in front of him. "What?"

Mike squatted down before answering. "A carcass."

Sam stepped up to Mike's left; his flashlight joining with Mike's which was pointing at the remains across their path. "Can you tell what it is?" Sam asked.

"There's not a lot left, but it looks like a deer, there's plenty of 'em around here."

"Yeah I know."

Mike shone his light up at Sam, stopping just short of shining it in his eyes. Sam answered Mike's unspoken question. "We did our research."

"Huh." Mike said. He got to his feet stepped over the carcass and continued on.

About 300 meters further on the trees opened out onto a clearing the fallen colossus of a large tree lay across it.

Sam and Mike split and went either side of the tree shining their lights into the trees and onto the ground, they were about 2 steps from meeting up together on the other side when Mike put his hand up palm outwards the universal signal for stop. "Wait."

The tone of authority in Mike's voice and years of hearing and obeying the same tone in his ex-marine father's voice halted Sam in his tracks.

Mike was shining his flash light at the ground between them; Sam added the light of his own flashlight to the ground as Mike squatted down on his haunches picked up a small stick lying nearby and poked it at the dirt.

Damp earth flew into the air as the jaws of a large gin trap closed around the stick with a metallic snap neatly severing the stick.

"Damn that Crocker he's still setting illegal traps," Mike said vehemently as he got back to his feet holding the sprung trap by the chain that attached it to the fallen tree, "well he won't be using this one again." With that he smashed the trap against the log until bits of rusty metal few off in several directions. Satisfied he dropped what was left of the trap hanging from the chain onto the ground.

Sam smiled at Mike in the darkness, "Something tells me you wished that was Crocker's head."

He saw a flash of Mike's white teeth as he smiled back. "Oh yeah."

As they left the clearing Mike leading the way, Sam's flashlight caught something metallic under the scrub at the side of the clearing, fearing it might be another trap he pulled the gun out from the back of his jeans and cautiously pushed at the object with the butt.

_Too small to be a trap. _Sam brushed at the muddy earth partially covering it as more of it became visible he grabbed it up out of the dirt, recognition sending a chill up his spine. Dean had been here as it was Dean's gun, his favorite colt 1911; he tucked Mike's pistol back into his belt and ejected the clip out of Dean's, shining the flashlight on the full clip of silver bullets. _Dean hadn't even gotten off a shot before……_

Sam was pulled from his thoughts as Mike came back into the clearing, what he had been about to say died on his lips when he saw the look on Sam's face and the gun in his hands, instead he said, "Sam?" a note of enquiry in his deep voice.

"Don't have to worry about locating some silver bullets anymore I found some."

Mike came over to Sam and shone the flashlight on the gun lying across Sam's trembling hand. "Is that Dean's?"

"Yeah and it's full." Sam inserted the clip back into the colt.

Mike tried to ease the anxiety he saw in Sam's face by saying. "Well at least we know we're on the right track and Dean was here."

"Yeah but where is he now, do you think he could be……?"

"I think we'd better get on to Crocker's, and I also think we'll find Dean there, alive, how much time before moonrise?"

Sam looked down at his watch blinking away the dampness clouding his vision. "Urrr bout 12 minutes."

"Come on then we better move if we're gonna find your brother before that werewolf comes out to play hide and go seek."

Sam gave a choked snort of laughter. "That sounds like something Dean would say."

----- FBTW -----

They came to the house just as the moon rose over the top of the trees lighting up the night and bathing the dilapidated shabby farmhouse before them in a silvery light. The flashlights were no longer needed. Sam dropped his into the pocket of his hooded jacket Mike clipped his onto his belt.

2 rectangles of light shone from the house one from the ground floor and one from the upper level. To their right the dirt track muddy from the earlier rain emerged from the trees continued across the front of the house in front of where they stood and down the opposite side. Sam's eyes followed the track down the side of the house and were drawn to the structure behind and to the left of the house from this distance it looked to be an outhouse or barn of some sort.

Sam was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling that Dean was here and he was in that barn, on the heels of that came the fear that Dean was almost out of time. _Hang on big bro, I'm coming._

"Dean's here he's in the barn." Sam said his voice full of varying emotions from relief to sadness and anger.

Mike looked across at Sam, noting the trail of moisture sliding from under his ear along the edge of his jaw, his face shiny with dampness. "What, you don't know that?" Mike said with a shake of his head.

Sam turned to look at Mike. "He's in there don't ask me how I know but I do," then added with a shrug of one shoulder, "he's my brother." As if that explained everything.

Mike continued to look at Sam for a few seconds his dark eyes scanning his face, before saying, "Alright then we'll check out the barn." He gestured with his gun for Sam to precede him. "After you."

Drawing Dean's gun from his belt from beside the one Mike had given him, he led the way, they left the cover of the trees ran to the nearest corner of the house, backs pressed against the peeling weatherboard, ducking under 2 dark windows to reach the corner adjoining the back wall. Sam peered around the corner; no light spilled out into the moonlit night, the back of the house was in total darkness.

The barn was some distance behind the house, the muddy trail leading up to the double doors. Nodding at Mike; Sam ran covering the distance quickly, when he reached the barn he pressed his shoulder to the old boards and watched as Mike started to run from the house.

Sam turned his head and peered between the warped boards. A few slithers of moonlight pierced the gaps in the boards throwing the same silvery light across the floor that surrounded them but most of the interior was in darkness and he couldn't make out much, only the odd shape of things that he couldn't identify. He heard Mike's soft breathing as he came up behind him. His eyes stopped on a shape in what looked to be the center of the barn, a pale slender shape.

"Dean." He said in a breathy whisper.

He quickly moved along to the double doors, wrenching on the closest one uncaring if it made any noise, but the door was hanging askew by only one hinge the lower outside edge catching in the dirt and Sam had to pull it bit by bit to get it open enough to fit his lanky body inside.

Sam went straight to the pale hanging figure that was Dean. He didn't hear Mike slip in the door behind him and pull the door closed. He looked upon his brother for the first time since he'd walked out of his hospital room almost 2 days earlier, or what was left of his brother.

His naked body was suspended from a large wooden beam running the length of the barn by a chain attached to manacles around his wrists; drying blood ran down his arms his head was bowed onto his chest which was covered in blood, _oh god_, his whole body was covered in blood, it slid slowly downwards and dripped into the expanding thick, muddy, puddle under his feet dangling a half foot off the ground. Dean's right foot from the ankle down was almost unrecognizable in no way did it resemble the left, the torn mangled flesh at the ankle was fiery red with yellow streaks running into the skin stretched taught over the swollen foot. There wasn't an inch of his body that Sam could see that wasn't marred by blood, multi colored bruises or torn flesh.

Sam reached out a tentative hand cupping Dean's chin and lifting his head; his skin was cold; his face as well was bloody and bruised, the left eye and cheekbone were encircled in a bleeding, red swelling mass of bruised tissue his long dark eyelashes lying against indigo smudges under both eyes. Tightly encircling his neck was a wide metal collar, it had cut into the flesh under his jaw, and was held in place at the side by a padlock. Sam's fingers were now covered in his brother's blood.

_I'm too late. _Tears ran unchecked down his face as he whispered. "Oh God Dean, I'm so sorry."

Sam had forgotten Mike's presence beside him until he spoke. "Are we too late?"

Sam didn't answer Mike's question he said. "Help me get him down."

Mike looked up at the pulley above Dean and quickly moved to the where the chain was attached, unraveling the chain and taking the weight as he began to lower Dean towards the ground,

Sam wrapped his arms around his brother's body and lowered him the rest of the way down to the earth floor, his manacled hands with chain still attached lay on his chest.

Sam laid a gentle hand against the sweat and blood soaked hair on Dean's forehead with the other he managed to insert 2 fingers into the edge of the collar and pressed down against his pulse. "Come on Dean please, please give me something."

Mike knelt on the other side of Dean looking between Dean's slack face and Sam tear stained one, waiting.

Sam continued to press against Dean's throat his eyes never leaving Dean's face. _Did I imagine that flutter? No there it is again. _He risked a look at Mike's expectant face. "He's alive; find something to get this collar off its restricting his airway." He put his cheek close to Dean's slightly parted lips and was relieved to feel a small puff of air.

Mike got to his feet and scanned the barn looking for some tool or something he could use to break the padlock. He shone the flashlight around until it settled on the heap of metal machine parts, near the top was a rusted metal wheel, part of it and two of the spokes had rusted away another spoke was only attached to the center by a rusty thread. It broke off in his hand easily clutching it tightly he went back to Sam and Dean.

After Mike left Dean's side Sam smoothed Dean's filthy, mud and blood coated hair back from his forehead. Through the dirt, blood and bruises that covered his big brother's face Sam could see the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks with his other hand he gently tapped Dean's icy cold cheek a couple of times then left it lying there trying to impart some of his own body warmth into Dean and hopefully letting his brother know he was there with him. Sam started speaking low and soothing to his still too pale and much too cold brother, "Dean give me a sign here, you're gonna be okay I'm here now and we're gonna get you out of here," he could here Mike moving around and see the beam of his flashlight flicking as he panned it around searching the barn, "You hear me Dean, don't you dare die on me, I need you to be okay so I can kill you myself for being such an asshole and trying to do this on your own."

Mike crouched down again beside Dean he was holding a foot long piece of rusty metal, about a half inch thick. "This do?"

"Yeah."

Sam held the padlock away from the collar and braced a hand against Dean's jaw while Mike inserted the end into the eye of the lock, he gave a flick of his wrist and the padlock pulled open. Sam unhooked the open padlock and opened the collar, pulling it away from Dean's neck and flinging it away with a growl of anger. He again put his cheek close to Dean's lips and felt for the puff of air, when it came Sam was relieved that it seemed stronger than before.

"What about the cuffs?" Mike asked.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his lock pick, he made quick work of the manacles; still attached to the chain they followed the collar into the dark extremities of the barn. Sam noted the torn ravaged flesh circling Dean's wrists his voice full of barely reined in fury. "They're gonna pay for this, if it's the last thing I do."

Mike looked up at Sam, "I'm right there with you Sam, I've got issues to sort out with Wade Crocker."

Sam wondered briefly what those issues could be, as he ripped off his jacket. "Help me put this on him, he's so cold."

Between them they managed to get Dean half sitting up his head lolled down onto his chest. While Mike held him Sam took the jacket and went behind Dean. He stopped and Mike saw his eyes widen and his lips tremble before his face settled into a grim mask of anger as he looked at Dean's back. "What is it?" Mike questioned, softly.

Sam swallowed hard before answering. "His back it… it looks like hamburger meat," he laid the jacket against Dean's mangled back gently and as he maneuvered his arms into the sleeves he spoke to Dean, "just as well you're unconscious bro because this would hurt like hell." He zipped the jacket two thirds of the way up.

They moved to either side of Dean and lifted him, one arm over Sam's shoulder and the other over Mike's both took one of his hands to steady him. Dean's weight dragged on them as they staggered towards the door he hung between them his head hanging low, bare feet scraping across the dirt floor leaving furrows in their wake. Sam hated to think what that was doing to his already mangled ankle. When they reached the barn doors Mike peered into the crack where the doors didn't quite meet.

The back of the house was no longer in darkness light shone from one of the windows, then the back door opened spilling yellow electric light out into the night, a figure was silhouetted briefly in the doorway before there was the sound of a wooden door closing with a bang and the light was cut off.

Mike looked at Sam across Dean's bowed dark head, whispering. "Someone's coming."

**TBC**

**I've got nothing to say except: Oh no another cliffhanger. So sorry. (I'm not really sorry)**


	10. Chapter 10

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:  
**You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:  
**Sorry that I never answered your reviews, being a little tied up with RL at the moment, I thought it best to concentrate my spare time on writing chapter 10 rather than answering your kind reviews. That said all reviews are appreciated and I will try to find the time to answer all reviews (that come through to my inbox) of this chapter.

Now on with the story, the rescue of Dean is underway, but as we all know things never go easy for the Winchester's. Enjoy!

Thanks as always to my beta _msokiedokie._

**Chapter 10**

Rae-Anne crept down the stairs avoiding the one step that gave a load creak when any weight was put on it, reaching the bottom she peeked into the lounge room; the room reeked of a combination of neglect, musty dampness, sweat and sour bourbon. Daddee was asleep on the threadbare and torn sofa a nearly empty bottle of Jack cradled between his arm and his side, one leg dangling over the edge his booted foot touching the floor; loud snores emanating from his parted lips. He was wearing green eyes' watch, having claimed it after they had stripped it from him along with everything else. Her latest captive's clothes and boots were discarded in an untidy pile on the floor in the corner, to be buried with him later, as all the clothing from the other two had been. His keys, knife, skull bracelet and strange necklace were on the wobbly dresser to her right.

This was what her Daddee did 6 nights out of 7 he passed out in a drunken stupor in the very same spot, very rarely was his bed slept in. It was what Rae-Anne wanted, it was her opportunity to sneak into the barn to see her beautiful, green-eyed but damaged by her own hand captive, she hoped to find him still living and not yet dead from blood loss or strangulation. She wanted to see him one more time before she turned in to see if he had regained his senses, she wanted to torment him some more.

She lifted the brown leather cord attached to pendant from the dresser, running her grimy fingers over the odd brass horned creature wondering what it represented. As she went to return it to the dresser she hesitated and then slipped the leather cord over her head. The heavy brass pendant lay nestled against her breastbone between her tiny breasts. _If Daddee can have his watch and his knife I can have his necklace._

----- FBTW -----

The sound of boots squelching across the muddy track between the house and the barn drew closer.

Sam was sitting in the shadows to one side of the barn doors, his arms wrapped tightly around Dean, holding him against his chest; Dean's head lay nestled against his shoulder, his face turned towards Sam's neck. Sam could feel his warm breath on his throat, which was followed by a wheezing crackle as he labored to inhale. _Keep breathin' bro. _Sam moved his left hand from around Dean's chest and placed it along the left side of his forehead.

Where before Dean had been ice cold heat radiated off him, moisture or blood or a combination of both soaked into Sam wherever their bodies touched, the heat where he touched Dean's head burned into his palm. Sam welcomed the searing pain a reminder that he had his brother back so he tightened his grip. _Now that I've found you I'm not letting go, ever._

The footsteps stopped outside the barn. Sam glanced over at Mike; he was on the other side of the doors, back pressed up to the boards, his gun drawn and ready.

The door on Mike's side started to open in dragging stages; they could hear the grunts from the person on the other side as they fought to open it.

As a slightly built figure slipped through the gap, a high-pitched voice rang out through the barn. "You awake green eyes?"

Before the words had barely left her mouth Mike grabbed her from behind, wrapping his gun arm around her throat while the other one clamped down over her mouth, promptly cutting off anything else she would have said. "Thanks for the wakeup call, but you've got me mixed up with someone else, you see my eyes are brown." Mike said as he twisted his hand and pushed the muzzle of the gun against the side of her head.

Sam disentangled himself from Dean and laid him down gently on his side on the ground.

Using his hips and knees Mike nudged Rae-Anne forward into the center of the barn, muffled whimpering coming from beneath Mike's hand. She clawed at Mike's arm, trying to loosen his hold.

Sam found a pile of oily filthy rags beside the old dodge, grabbing one off the top he moved in front of Rae-Anne who was now under the pulley. He held the rag up in front of her face, Mike removed his hand from her mouth, before she could draw a breath to scream or cry out Sam pushed the rag into her mouth, he pulled it tight between her lips and tied it tightly around the back of her head, tighter than was necessary.

While Mike continued to hold her Sam picked up the discarded manacles pulled one of her arms from Mike's arm slapped the manacle on her skinny wrist, quickly following with the other wrist as she tried to pull her hand out of Sam's grip. Mike released her; she fell to her hands and knees sobbing around the dirty gag.

Mike was already pulling the chain up through the pulley, it pulled tight and she had no choice but to stand, Mike hooked the chain over the metal peg and twisted it around a couple of times, her feet were just beginning to lift off the floor, the toes of her scuffed dirty boots brushing the ground, which was kinder than how she tied Dean.

Sam stood in front of her he leaned in bringing his furious face close to hers. "You little bitch; you do that to my brother?" Sam gestured at Dean lying pale and silent behind him.

Her colorless eyes slid to Dean and back to Sam's face. Sobbing into the rag, tears running down her cheeks she shook her head.

Sam was breathing heavy from anger, he drew back his hand to slap her, but Mike grabbed his wrist. "Don't Sam, I'll make sure she gets what's coming to her," Mike looked into Sam's eyes, then added, "I promise."

Sam looked at Mike and he knew he would keep his word; Sam gave a curt nod of his head. Mike let his hand go and Sam dropped it to his side. He spared Rae-Anne one more look, something else caught his eye, she had something around her neck, something that didn't belong to her, Dean's amulet.

His anger rekindled Sam grasped the amulet and yanked down, pulling the knot in the leather cord loose. She whimpered louder. _I hope it hurt like a son of a bitch. _Giving Rae-Anne a look of such fury she visibly cringed back closing her eyes, he squeezed his hand around the amulet barely aware of the horns piercing his palm.

"Sam I'm going to the house to find Gracie and bring Wade back here, then we're gonna get Dean out of here and to some help," Sam didn't answer but continued to stare at Rae-Anne. Mike shook his shoulder, "Sam you stay here watch her and take care of Dean, okay?"

Sam shoved the amulet deep into his jeans pocket and turned away from Rae-Anne, nodded at Mike, saying. "Yeah alright," he looked over at Dean, "hurry."

Mike followed Sam's gaze, then went to the door and peered out, seeing no movement from the house he slipped through the gap and ran towards the light streaming from the back door.

----- FBTW -----

After Mike had slipped through the door, Sam knelt down beside Dean, looking at his brother's slack pale face Sam felt a moment of panic, he looked…….

_No, please, no Dean no. _"Don't you dare!" Sam placed his trembling palm against Dean's forehead, to Sam's surprise and delight, Dean's eyelids fluttered; _thank God. _Dean gave a low pain-filled groan before slowly turning his face towards Sam, as if some inbuilt radar had honed in on his little brother's nearness.

At that moment Sam forgot about Rae-Anne and Wade, Mike, the barn, the werewolf, everything. There was just Dean.

"Dean hey Dean, I'm here it's me Sammy, I got you."

Sam wasn't sure Dean could hear him; until he said in a voice so quiet and rough Sam had to lean close to hear when he said. "Please…, stop…, don't…, no more." Finishing on another labored breathe.

The whispered croaky words brought tears to Sam's eyes. "It's alright no one's gonna hurt you anymore." Sam said through his tears, stroking Dean's hot damp forehead.

Dean's eyelashes fluttered again but this time they opened a slit, even in the darkness of the barn Sam could see the glitter of fever in them. Although Dean appeared to be looking at him, Sam didn't think he saw him. Dean was panting as he continued in the same strained rough voice. "Ss… am, should have… listened, I… I let you down…, sorry." The last word came out as pained gasp.

Sam's tears came faster spilling down his cheeks dripping off his chin and onto his jacket Dean had on. "No Dean, no, don't say that, you never let me down, ever, I'm the one who should be sorry, sorry I got sick, sorry I didn't find you sooner, sorry you had to spend your life looking out for me, sorry for everything." Sam's breath hitched as he stuttered to a stop.

Dean's voice sounded again. "Sammy?" it sounded like a question. Was Dean aware that he was here?

"Yeah Dean I'm here."

"Sammy…, you okay?"

Sam gave a hitching laugh. "Yeah Dean I'm good."

"Mmmm." Dean's eyes slid closed and he slipped away again.

----- FBTW -----

Through the pain and darkness that gripped him, Dean thought he heard Sam's voice. Then something oddly comforting was placed against his forehead. _How can Sam be here?_ Although any movement caused pain he instinctively turned his head towards the voice, making a valiant effort to open his eyes, but not succeeding.

Dean heard more words but could not hear what was been said. _Oh God no, please don't let it be her._ In a voice that kind of sounded like his and yet didn't he heard himself say. "Please…, stop…, don't…, no more." _I'm begging. This is what I've been reduced to a begging, quivering lump of useless, pulped battered flesh._

The comforting thing resting against his forehead began a gentle stroking, and that voice he imagined the one that sounded like Sam, like Sam when he was upset, said. "It's alright no one's gonna hurt you anymore."

Dean forced his uncooperative eyes open; at least he thought they were open although all he saw was swirling varying shades of darkness._ Might as well talk to imaginary Sam. _"Ss… am, should have… listened, I… I let you down…, sorry." The last word came out as a gasp as pain lanced through him.

Imaginary Sam said in a choking tear filled voice. "No Dean, no, don't say that, you never let me down, ever, I'm the one who should be sorry, sorry I got sick, sorry I didn't find you sooner, sorry you had to spend your life looking out for me, sorry for everything." Imaginary Sam gave a breathy hitch on the last word and stuttered to a stop.

_Could Sam really be here? He sounds so near and so real, like I could reach out and touch him, if I had the strength._ _Maybe, just maybe Sam found me and he really is here, here goes_ _nothing. _"Sammy?" _That's the same voice that sounds a little like me._

"Yeah Dean I'm here."

_It is Sam, if only I could see him._ "Sammy…, you okay?" He said in the direction of really here Sam and into the darkness.

Sam gave a hitching laugh. "Yeah Dean I'm good."

"Mmmm." Dean let his sightless eyes slide closed and he let himself slip away. _I can go now I know Sam's okay._

----- FBTW -----

Mike systematically checked every room he came to. He found Wade passed out on the sofa. He left him there and went in search of Gracie, he searched upstairs and down. There was no sign of her anywhere, nothing; it was as if she didn't exist.

Completing his search Mike went back to the lounge room stood over the man who had stolen the love of his life. He looked down at Wade in disgust; the smell seeping out of his pores was a mixture of unwashed dirty body and stale alcohol; it turned Mike's stomach. _This, this was what Gracie settled for?_

He kicked at Wade's leg hanging off the sofa, saying. "Hey, wake up sleeping beauty," Wade snorted through his nose and his eyes blinked open, his head turned towards Mike, squinting up at him, "Get up." Mike said menace lacing every word.

Wade's eyes opened wide when he realized he looked down the barrel of Mike's gun. "What the hell you doing in my house?" He sat up and swung his legs off the sofa. The bottle of bourbon he had beside him falling to the floor, the last of the amber liquid dribbling out onto soaked up in the filthy carpet.

"My job, something I should have done years ago," Mike said as he took a step back, "where's Gracie?"

"Maybe you should tell me?" Wade sneered back as he stared up at Mike.

"Cut the crap, where is she?"

Wade cast his eyes down, before answering. "Gracie left me."

Mike lifted the muzzle of the gun pointing it between Wade's eyes. "I don't believe you, what did you do to her, tell me where she is." Mike's tone was low and menacing.

Wade met Mike's eyes and yelled back at him. "I'm telling the truth, she just left, a couple of months ago; I don't know where she is," He looked at Mike's stunned expression then added, "I thought she went to you."

"Well she didn't." Mike reached out and grasped Wade's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Get up, move."

Wade had the sense to look nervous. "Where are you taking me?"

"The barn, now move."

----- FBTW -----

The moon now high overhead bathed the two men coming slowly towards the barn in silver. Sam watched from outside the door as at gunpoint Mike led a large man which Sam knew must be Wade towards him. Suddenly Wade stumbled and went down onto his hands and knees.

Mike gave him a less than friendly nudge with the toe of his boot, saying. "Get up."

Wade climbed it seemed to Sam laboriously to his feet. Suddenly with a speed deceptive of his size he turned towards Mike and hurled a fist full of mud into Mike's face.

Stunned and blinded by the move, Mike stumbled back a step reaching up to his eyes to wipe away the mud, his gun wavered his aim on Wade faltered. Again with deceptive speed Wade took off at a run heading up the side of the house. It happened so fast, before Mike could recover or Sam could pull a gun from his belt aiming at the retreating figure he disappeared around the front of the house.

"Damn it." Sam said as he started to give pursuit. Still swiping at his eyes Mike waved him back with his gun taking off in the direction Wade had taken, throwing over his shoulder."Get Dean out of here."

He didn't need to be told twice he went back into the barn; ignoring the whimpering Rae-Anne he went to Dean taking his arms, "Come on bro we're outta here."

He pulled him into a sitting position, Dean's eyes flew open on a sharp intake of breathe. He said in the same scratchy pained voice. "Sam wha' doin'? Hurts."

Dean was pulled from the smothering darkness, pain shooting through every inch of his body as he was pulled into a sitting position. He could see now and although Sam had said he was good he looked far from it._ Liar! _"Sam wha' doin'? Hurts."

Sam realized that Dean was actually seeing him now. "I'm gonna carry you outta here, get you some help."

Dean pushed at him weakly, _no way. _"I… can… walk."

"Yeah sure you can, you're in bad shape Dean how far do you think you can get without falling flat on your face?" Sam reached for him again.

Dean batted at Sam's hands with very little strength but with great determination. "No Sam… wanna walk… out…, please."

The last whispered words made Sam falter. He looked into Dean's pale, bruised and bloody face and then into his eyes. In the glittering green depths he saw a gamut of emotions, pain, fear, humiliation, frustration and something else, strength of will and determination, two classic Dean Winchester traits. Sam understood, he understood his brother all too well. Dean had to do this he had to walk out of this barn this place of so much physical and mental torment on his own feet. Only problem being Sam didn't think Dean was physically capable of taking one step let alone the five or six steps it would take to get to the door especially with that knee and mangled ankle.

Sam compromised. "Alright, but let me help you or the deal is off, you're too weak to fight me and you know it."

Dean closed his eyes and gave a slight nod of his head, mumbling under his breath. "Bossy much."

Sam smiled to spite his concern. "Learned from an expert."

----- FBTW -----

Dean batted Sam's hands away. "No Sam… wanna walk… out…, please." Dean hated the pleading note in his voice. He looked up into Sam's hazel eyes. Dean hoped Sam understood his need to do this. He'd suffered so much in this damned barn. To walk outta here would be a victory over these evil cruel people. A small victory but a victory none the less. _I hope I can follow through._

Dean saw it in his brother's eyes Sam understood where he was coming from, but he wasn't happy about it. "Alright, but let me help you or the deal is off, you're too weak to fight me and you know it." Dean was waiting for Sam to wag his finger at him.

Dean closed his eyes in relief and gave a small nod it was all he could manage. "Bossy much." He mumbled.

He almost heard Sam smile. "Learned from an expert."

Sam never ceased to be amazed by his brother, with Sam's help Dean somehow managed to gain his feet.

Dean didn't know what was worse the first slight weight he dared to put on his damaged legs and feet, or Sam's supporting arm wrapping around the pulped flesh of his back. Pain shot through him from every direction stealing his breath and almost sending him back into darkness. _God this walking thing was even worse than the last time I tried it. _Of course then he'd only had the mashed ankle, now he had a knee that felt shattered and ten times its normal size, not to mention the rifle butt to the head and nearly strangling to it hadn't been for Sam's support he would have collapsed back the barn floor. Dean felt Sam's grip on the hand of the arm he had draped across Sam's shoulders tighten, trying to impart encouragement and some of his strength into him to keep going.

Taking as deep a breath as his struggling body would allow, he took a small step forward. _Okay that's the first one._

Somehow they made it to the open door, staggering and stumbling, it seemed to take an age. They were two baby steps outside the door when Dean went down. He just sort of folded up like a deck of cards to spite Sam's efforts to keep him from getting acquainted with the mud, bringing Sam down with him.

Sam looked down at Dean's face in the moonlight, he looked so ill, Sam stomach clenched with a mixture of anxiety and sickness.

Mike dropped down beside them, he was alone, Wade had gotten away. "How's he doin'?" He asked looking down at Dean.

"Not good, help me with him, while he's unconscious, it'll be easier that way, on him anyway." Sam began tugging on Dean's arm.

Soon they had him once again hanging between them; they decided to go via the track than through the trees, even though it was longer it would be easier with them supporting the injured Dean.

"What happened to Wade?" Sam asked breathlessly as they negotiated a bend in the track.

"I lost him in the trees," Mike was breathing heavy. _Damn Dean you're heavy, _"Maybe the werewolf will find him." He finished.

"Lucky the werewolf didn't find you."

Mike glanced at Sam across Dean. "I had my gun."

"Yeah but I got the silver bullets."

"Silver bullets, good point."

The mud pulled at their shoes, slowing their progress as they continued on.

From the direction of Dean came a scratchy voice. "Killed it."

Sam and Mike stopped dead, surprised that Dean was conscious, both looking at the back of Dean's bowed head and then at each other. "Killed what, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Were… wolf."

"You found the gun it hadn't been fired, he's delirious, Sam."

Sam had to lean close to hear as Dean whispered shaking his head weakly. "Not gun… silver knife."

"You killed it with a silver knife?" Sam asked.

Dean went limp in their arms, causing their knees to bend; all three sank to the ground in a graceless heap.

Sam looked down at his brother, again amazed by the man lying so pale and still in the mud.

"He couldn't have… could he?" Mike ventured tentatively.

"If Dean said he killed it, he killed it." Sam answered rather forcefully. Forgetting that Mike didn't know Dean all that well.

The howl of a large canine animal echoed to them, it sounded like it had come from the direction they had come from.

Sam and Mike both looked back down the track in that direction then spoke simultaneously. "Two werewolves?"

**TBC**

**So now Sam and Mike know there is second werewolf, and poor Dean's not out of the woods yet (pardon the pun). Hands up all who think they know who the second werewolf is. The clues are all there, in the earlier chapters.**

**Thanks for reading, all reviews are welcome.**


	11. Chapter 11

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:  
**You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:  
**Thanks to all who read and reviewed Chapter 10. Have you figured out who the werewolf is yet? I know some of you did. Here's chapter 11, not for those with a weak stomach, enjoy!

Thanks as always goes to my beta msokiedokie.

**Chapter 11**

Rae-Anne stared hard at the barn doorway, her eyesight blurring as her eyes continued to fill up with tears the empty rectangle of space reflecting the moonlight across the dirt floor where a few minutes before green eyes and his brother had staggered into the night.

From what she'd heard before she knew Daddee had gotten away, now she was waiting for his familiar shape to fill the doorway to come and rescue her from the manacles that bit into the flesh of her wrists. Thinking only of herself and her own pain not sparing a thought that this is just a tiny fraction of the pain and hurt she'd put her 3 captives through, the first 2 having died as a result.

Still no sign of Daddee. _He wouldn't leave me, would he?_

She screamed into the rag in frustration pulling down on the manacles at the same time, the manacles slipped down from her wrists to the widest part of her hands. Pulling her thumbs into her palms making them as small as possible she again pulled down, again she screamed into the rag after a few seconds of pain her wrists slipped free of the manacles. She fell to her knees a sharp stone buried in the dirt digging into her knee, pulling the rag out of her mouth so it was around her throat she sat on the dirty floor sobbing, "Daddee, Daddee, where are you?" and rubbing at her sore scraped wrists.

When she'd recovered she got shakily to her feet shuffled out of the barn and into the moonlight. The back door to the house was open but there was no sign of Daddee, she'd go to the house and get the rifle, she wanted green eyes back and she'd get him back if it meant killing the brother and the sheriff. She took 2 steps towards the welcoming light spilling from the back door stopping dead in her tracks as a deep animal growl sounded off to her left coming from around the side of the barn, she spun to face the sound as a large animal emerged from the shadow of barn into the moonlight crouching low on all fours it took slow stealthy steps towards her it's yellow eyes glinted, lips curling away from its huge canine teeth in a look of contempt and loathing the look accompanied by another deep menacing growl. Taking shallow, panicked breaths Rae-Anne backed away from the creature.

The creature's mouth opened wide and a howl of rage and anger split the air around her. It was like a starter's pistol going off, her queue to run. She turned and ran towards the house, she ran faster than she ever had in her whole life her eyes pinned on the beckoning light and relative safety of the door.

She could hear the creature's feet pounding on the ground or was it her own heart pounding in her ears, when she was nearing safety maybe 8 feet away the pounding stopped and a moment later she was knocked to the ground from behind what little air she had forced out of her lungs, the heavy muscular weight of the creature pinning her to the muddy ground, she whimpered in terror as the creature sniffed at her ear she felt it's hot breath against her cheek, she squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering softly.

The creature pounded after the girl when the girl was a few feet from the house she leapt; all four paws landing on the girls back bringing her down to the ground, she could feel the girls terror as she sniffed at the side of her face, the girl closed her eyes whimpering pathetically. She lifted her muzzle from the girl's face and looked at her as she kept her pinned beneath her, the girl wasn't even struggling. She felt no sadness for the girl, no remorse for what she was about to do. Opening her jaws wide she bit down into the middle of the girls back and wrenched a huge lump of flesh away, the girl let loose a high pitched scream. The creature smiled tossing the flesh away to the side then bit down again and again her teeth scraping and crushing bone as she ripped the girl apart the girl screamed again at the second and third bites then fell silent, the fifth bite yielded her the prize she sort the girls black heart.

----- FBTW -----

The animal howl was followed a minute later by a high pitched shrill scream.

Sam glanced at Mike when he said. "Rae-Anne."

Two more screams sounded in quick succession, Sam sprung into action; he hunkered down beside Dean and gripped his arm firmly, now he was more anxious than ever to get him away from here. "We gotta hurry."

When Mike made no move to help him Sam looked up at him Mike was looking down the track towards the road, "Mike?"

Mike dropped down beside him, before he said. "I'm gonna go and get the car, this is taking too long, you've got the silver bullets if that thing gets here before I get back."

Sam opened his mouth to protest before he realized Mike was right, this was taking too long, and he was feeling weak and shaky and even with Mike's help he was struggling with Dean's muscular weight and his own weakness. The werewolf was behind them and the car was in the other direction. "Be careful." Was all he said.

"I will," he said as he got to his feet pulling his gun from the holster and cocking it ready, "don't go anywhere."

With that ridiculous statement he took off at a run towards the road, spurts of mud shooting up from under his feet raining down all around him and splattering his clothes.

After he disappeared around a bend in the track Sam looked down at Dean, the moonlight made his skin look translucent the darkening bruise on his cheek the only color in his pasty face. "Hang on Dean, Mike's gone to get the car."

Sam pulled Dean's gun from his waistband, he checked the clip and brought the gun up bracing his gun hand with his left he stood protectively beside the prone body of his brother, legs braced apart, his left leg touching Dean, he needed the contact with Dean to keep him grounded, perspiration rolled down his throat to be absorbed by his rapidly dampening shirt, nausea churning in his stomach. Blinking sweat from his eyes he scanned the thick brush on both side of the track, aware of every leaf that shivered or swayed in the evening breeze, every now and then sparing a glance in the direction they had come from, alert to any sound or movement any sign that the werewolf was close.

"Hurry Mike."

----- FBTW -----

Wade had heard the animal howl and the screams, the screams that he knew belonged to his baby girl. He stopped running and looked around him breathing heavily his heartbeat throbbing in his temples. His flight from the sheriff had taken him a long way from the house, he turned back towards the house he'd go back and get his rifle his baby girl and stop that bastard and the others from leaving, and he'd shoot them all and bury them along with the other 2 of Rae-Anne's toys.

Wade was half way back to the house when he heard it - a low throaty growl coming from somewhere to his left, he stopped dead staring so hard at the brush there that his eyes started to water, his Adam's apple bobbing as swallowed nervously. The growl sounded again closer, accompanied by two glowing orbs of yellow that looked like a pair of feral eyes.

Wade turned and ran towards the track, he heard the sound of heavy grunting breathing, the rustle of branches as it pushed its muscular body through the brush the snap of twigs and the roll of dislodged stones under its feet as it pounded after him, he tripped over something a root or a stone putting his hands out to save his fall skidding along the ground on his knees, elbows and the palms of his hands. Momentarily stunned he looked up and through a small gap in the trees saw the track leading to the road. Scrambling forward a few steps on hands and knees before regaining his feet he ran for the gap and shot like a bullet out of a gun onto the dirt track. He headed to the left and began running again towards a bend in the track, he heard the animal broach the trees and thud onto the track behind him.

There was something coming up the track but it wasn't a car, Sam stood his ground pointing the gun in that direction, he was ready he could kill it before it got anywhere near him or Dean.

What ran around the bend in the track was not the werewolf but Wade Crocker, big feet slipping in the mud and throwing harried looks back over his shoulder.

Sam watched him as he stumbled and slipped up to him, anger at this monster that had been one of Dean's tortures he stepped forward putting himself between his brother and Wade. Sam lowered the gun and gripped Wade by the bicep, bringing him to a stop in front of him.

Wade sucked in a breath through a wide open mouth, gasping out. "Help… it's after… me."

Sam shoved Wade aside bringing the gun up again, the track was empty there was nothing there.

"It was… right… behind me." Wade said, wide eyes looking back the way he had come.

It happened so quickly, Sam glanced at Wade, over his shoulder he saw movement as the werewolf launched itself from the edge of the trees at Wade landing its front paws in the center of Wade's back forcing Wade violently into Sam. He felt himself falling only stopping as he slammed into the ground, the gun jolted from his hand as he landed, pain shot through the back of his head as it collided with the ground in spite of the mud it was hard underneath, his head fell to the side his vision blurred and black spots did a highland fling across his eyes. Before the black spots grew and closed over into a solid mass he saw a blurred flash of Dean lying a few feet away, still unconscious, through the buzzing in his ears he heard frenzied snarls and growling and a whimpering begging voice that faded away into silence and darkness.

----- FBTW -----

_Stop that annoying too loud babbling and someone shut that dog up._ A cacophony of noise bringing Dean back to the surface once again, he rolled his head to the side and opened his eyes blinking to clear his vision.

The sight of Sam lying a few feet away his head turned towards him, face flushed, eyes shut, lips slightly parted, long bangs clinging damply to his forehead sent stabs of fear through his gut. "Sam… Sammy?" He could hardly hear his own voice cracked and weak as it was, so there was no way that Sam who appeared to be unconscious or God forbid worse would hear him. Dean saw Sam's chest rise on an intake of breath. _Unconscious, not dead, thank god._

He could still hear the dog snarling and growling and the human voice… begging? He rolled slowly and laboriously onto his side, groaning as pain shot through just about every inch of his body. He turned his head in the direction of the voice.

A werewolf was standing over Wade paws straddling his big body, yellow eyes pinning Wade down even though the animal wasn't touching him. _How can that be I killed it didn't I? _Its canine snout was close to Wade's face lips curled back from snarling jaws in what looked almost like a grimace of pleasure thick strings of saliva dripping onto Wades face and neck as he whimpered and begged for his life.

"Please don't, don't hurt me." Wade begged his voice cracking on the 'me'.

This was not the same werewolf; there slight differences in the size and the coloring. Dean was tempted to leave Wade to the werewolf after what he'd done to him, and the 2 other missing men, but he was a hunter of supernatural evil and although Wade was evil, he was not evil in a supernatural way, he was just an evil man and he needed to be punished by law for the torture and murder he'd instigated and been a part of.

"Hey," his own voice barely audible over Wade and the werewolf, he tried again, "hey over here you fugly bastard," his voice stronger this time.

The werewolf stopped snarling turning its head towards Dean examining him with what seemed like curiosity, it tipped its head to the side and whined.

No longer the wolf's main interest, Wade took the opportunity to scramble backwards from between the werewolf's paws, the werewolf sensed the movement and turned back to Wade with a howl of anger, snapping its jaws together. Wade froze visibly trembling with fear. Dean saw a dark stain at the crutch of Wade's pants. _Oh not so brave now, Mr. Crockershit._

The werewolf enraged by Wade's attempt to escape lunged forward at Wade sinking its jaws into Wade's belly, Wade screamed, the wolf lifted its jaws part of Wade's shirt, skin and innards swaying wetly from its jaws. Dean was horrified but unable to look away.

The werewolf dropped the mouthful onto the ground sniffed at it and turned back to Wade whose body shook with spasms his eyes wide and staring, the hole in his stomach leaking blood and dark bodily fluids that were soaking into his clothes and running down onto the ground below him.

Lifting its head the wolf howled at the moon, then sank its teeth into Wade again, nuzzling its face into the cavity that was once Wade's stomach pulling back with another mouthful its muzzle red and covered in gore. Dean felt bile rise into his throat. Wade made gurgling sounds as blood bubbled from his mouth running down the sides of his face, pooling in his ears.

Dean was finally able to tear his eyes away towards Sam, who was still motionless. The moonlight made everything seem surreal, like a dream. Something caught his eye, something he hadn't seen before, when he'd come to, all his focus had been on his little brother. In between him and Sam, obviously flung from Sam's grip when he was knocked unconscious was his own colt and he knew it was loaded with silver bullets, he had to reach it before the wolf finished with Wade and came after him or even worse Sam.

With a quick glance back at the werewolf as it went in for a third bite chomping down again on Wade's insides, who was now still, Dean started to drag his punished body towards the gun; using his elbows for purchase, the only part of him that was reasonably intact, every movement as he inched towards Sam and the gun sent rivers of fiery agony coursing through him, making his head swim and his vision to waver.

The colt was still a foot away when Dean heard the sound of a car approaching, he continued to inch towards the gun, he saw the sweep of headlights reflecting off the trees to his left moments before the car rounded the bend the headlights swung back towards him as the car straightened blinding him as he reached for the gun. The back of the car fish-tailed on the mud as the driver stomped on the brakes the headlights swinging to and fro like strobe lights in a dance club. His grasping fingers came up empty. With a yell of frustration and pain he jerked his body closer to the gun, bright spots of light from the headlights filling his vision, his grasping fingers closed over the butt of the gun as the car came to a halt.

Dean twisted himself around leaning up on one elbow the gun in his hand felt like it was made of lead, he barely had the strength to lift it; he heard the slap of feet in the mud as the driver exited the car then the menacing growl of the werewolf.

Dean blinked the fading spots out of his vision; the werewolf had turned away from Wade and was looking at the newcomer, still out of Dean's sight, crouched low, its muzzle coated in dark red, lips pulled back from its teeth growling continuously. It slunk forward a step, then stopped , sat on its rump tilting it's head to the side giving whoever it was that was standing out of sight the same look it had given to him before, whining softly. Dean had never seen a werewolf do that before.

As if a switch had been flipped and without warning the wolf sprang, bounding forward, not in the direction of him and Sam but towards the newcomer.

Dean fired 3 times in succession praying that the shaking of his gun hand wouldn't affect his aim and stop the werewolf before it reached it target. At first Dean thought he had missed as the wolf kept coming, then it suddenly dropped sprawled out in the mud, twitching.

Unable to hold himself or the weight of the gun up any longer Dean closed his eyes falling back in the mud letting the gun drop from his hand as footsteps squelching in the mud drew nearer stopping next to him. He felt a hand on his arm and a rich deep voice said quietly. "Dean." _I know that voice._ Dean opened his eyes looking into the dark worried face of Mike Washington.

"Is it dead?" Dean asked.

"Mike looked over his shoulder t the werewolf, saying, "I think so."

"Take the gun and go check, if it's not you gotta shot it in-"

"The heart, yeah I know Sam told me." Mike stood and moved out of Dean's sight.

Dean twisted around onto his front and looked at Sam, he still hadn't moved, fear churned Dean's already roiling gut, he resumed crawling across the muddy ground, covering the short distance between him and Sam faster than he thought possible, falling half across Sam's thighs, he placed his hand on Sam's chest feeling the steady beat of Sam's heart against his trembling palm. He fisted his hand in Sam's shirt and shook the material. "Sammy, come on man, wakey wakey, nap time's over."

Someone was shaking him, the vibrations jolting his aching head, sending tentacles of pain racing to the back of his eyeballs. The shaking continued accompanied by a familiar voice. "Sammy, come on man, wakey wakey nap time's over."

There was a heavy weight across his nether regions, pinning him to the ground. _The werewolf? _Sam groaned aloud, the shaking stopped only to be replaced with a rhythmic patting on his chest. Rolling his head against the sucking damp ground he blinked his eyes open, a halo of fuzzy light surrounding the huge looming moon.

He lifted his head and looked down to see what the hell was going on, straight into the dark-ringed green eyes and bruised pale face of his brother. "Dean? What the hell!" Sam sounded puzzled.

"Nice of you to join us, sleeping beauty," Dean said through cracked lips, resuming the patting on Sam's chest, "think it's my turn for a nap now."

Forgetting his aching head Sam sat up; Dean's hand fell away from his chest. Over the top of Dean Sam could see Mike on his knees beside a pale body and beyond that the mutilated body of Wade Crocker.

Sam looked back at his brother; he reached for Dean grasping his upper arms. "Did you?" He didn't have to finish.

Dean gave him a pained smile giving a small nod of his head, and then his eyes rolled up, his head dropped onto Sam's stomach, body going limp, and the weight across him increased.

"Dean, Dean," Sam rolled him off his legs and pulled him up against him. Dean's head rested on Sam's chest a parody of how they'd been moments earlier. Sam rested his cheek against the top of Dean's head, closed his eyes, shutting out the world, content for now to just hold him.

----- FBTW -----

Mike stood over the werewolf; he'd never seen anything like it; resembling a wolf in shape and size but with some human characteristics. It was lying on its side, one of its front legs bet back towards its body. 2 of Dean's shots had hit it the chest the third in the top of its front leg, blood spreading slowly through its silvery coat. To spite the 3 bullets it had taken it was not yet dead. Mike saw its side rise as it took a shuddering breath and the twitch of its paws.

_Why had it hesitated? _Before it had run at him it had looked at him strangely, almost like it thought it had known him, which was not possible as Mike had never encountered a creature like this before. Then it had attacked heading straight for him even though Sam and Dean had been closer. If Dean hadn't fired when he did Mike knew he would be dead, ripped to pieces. Even so he felt a strange kind of sadness for the creature. He lifted the gun and pointed it at the blood covered chest, ready to finish it off, before he pulled the trigger it gave a sigh, the breath leaving its body and it lay still, no more movement , it was dead.

Mike lowered the gun, what he saw next would haunt him for a long time maybe forever. The creature began to change in front of his eyes, the muscles under the skin rippling the hair shriveled and drew back into the skin, the whole body changing shape, refining, elongating, becoming more human like, the skin became lighter in color and finer in texture.

The whole process took next to no time. A short time later lying in front of him was no longer a wolf like creature but the slender body of naked woman, but not just any woman, a woman Mike knew all his life, his Gracie, the love of his life.

Mike sank to his knees in the mud beside her, his suddenly weak limbs making it impossible to stay standing; the gun falling from his numb fingers. Tears fell onto her naked bloody body. He reached out his hand and caressed her pale cheek and smoothed her dark blonde hair. Wishing to see her kind lop-sided smile the smile she kept especially for him. To see her gray/blue eyes alive with mischief and laughter, once more, just once more.

**TBC**

**So the bad guys are dead and so is the werewolf, but Dean is still in need of urgent medical attention and Sam is not the best. Will they get Dean to help before it's too late?**

**Thanks for reading and Happy Easter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**STORY SUMMARY:**

They were heading to Tennessee on the trail of a werewolf; but on the way Sam gets ill and has to be hospitalized. With Sam in good hands and recovering, Dean continues on to Tennessee to hunt the werewolf, but when he fails to return, Sam now recovered sets out on a desperate hunt of his own to find his brother.

**AUTHORS NOTES:**

Now that the werewolves and the evil Crocker's are dead, the hunt is over that battle is won, but now a new battle begins the battle to save Dean is on.

Will Dean survive the grievous injuries inflicted by the now dead Crocker's? And will Sam succumb to the illness that plagues him?

Thanks to my beta _msokiedokie._

And special thanks to _**tree**_for her expert help with the medical information.

**Chapter 12**

_Near Erwin TN_

With Mike's help, Sam loaded Dean as gently as he could into the back of the sheriff's car laying him out along the backseat. Sam slid in next to his brother and pulled Dean's head onto his lap, his right arm wrapped protectively around his brother. Mike produced an old plaid woolen blanket from the trunk, tucking it around Dean's bare goose-pimpled legs and ice cold filthy feet. Mike then thrust a half empty plastic bottle of water at Sam. "See if you can get some of this into him."

Mike maneuvered the car around in a 5 point turn then floored the accelerator spinning the wheels in the mud before the tires gripped and the car headed down the narrow track towards the road. Mike negotiated the slippery track expertly, if Dean had been conscious he would have been impressed; Sam tried to rouse Dean enough to drink some of the tepid water. When Dean failed to respond to Sam repeatedly calling his name and tapping his face, he placed the lip of the bottle against Dean's cracked lips and tipped the bottle so a small amount of water flowed from the opening. Most of the water dribbled from the side of Dean's mouth running along his face and soaking into Sam's pants where he cradled Dean's head.

Sam tried again but with the side to side movement of the car as Mike took the bends faster then he should have in the conditions, clipping the occasional tree as the car slid around the tight curves, the back sliding out throwing up fountains of mud, made it virtually impossible to get any of the precious liquid past his brother's parched lips.

When at last they slid around the final bend and onto the road sideways slewing across the road on 2 wheels until Mike got control of the vehicle flooring the accelerator again tires squealing a protest against the bitumen , Mike radioed ahead to the hospital in Erwin. The road was winding and badly potholed and the twenty eight miles seemed never ending.

Whenever the road straightened out Mike risked a glance in the rearview mirror at the brothers. Sam's head was down looking at his brother. "How's he doin?" He asked.

Sam's head came up and caught Mike's eyes in the mirror. "I think he's in shock, how much further?"

Mike looked down at the speedometer. "Bout 7 miles."

Just after that Sam started to see signs of habitation, one house then two, then ahead the reflected glow of city lights on the horizon as they approached Erwin, he looked back down at Dean his face a pale blur in the darkness of the car. "Hang on Dean, nearly there." Sam reached for Dean's cold hand and squeezed it, taking advantage of the opportunity while he could, as a conscious Dean would never allow it, he would ask him why he was holding his hand, tell him he was a girl and say _"enough of the chick flick moment, Samantha."_

When the first street light appeared Mike turned on the siren and the flashing lights, ensuring them a clear and hopefully unhindered path to the hospital.

A few minutes later they pulled up outside the emergency exit of the hospital, 3 people were waiting with a gurney. They rushed forward pushing the gurney as the car came to halt. The rear door on Sam's side was pulled open, hard hands pulled him from the car, he stood dazed as someone with a white coat leaned in the door and began examining Dean, yelling out things that at the time meant nothing to Sam.

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder and looked at Mike who had come up behind him. Mike gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed Sam's shoulder, before both of them returned their gazes to the activity in the cars doorway.

A minute later the gurney was pushed close to the open door and all 3 emergency staff plucked Dean from the car like he weighed no more than a feather and laid him on the gurney, the plaid blanket still tangled around his legs.

Mike took a hasty step backwards pulling Sam by the arm to avoid the young man being bowled over by the gurney as they hurried towards the brightly lit emergency entrance.

Sam and Mike followed closely behind, the staff whisked Dean down the corridor at a fast pace, Sam went to follow but Mike again grabbed his arm. "Sam wait here, let them do their work, you'll only be in the way."

Sam glanced back at him somewhat dazedly, then looked back to see Dean's bare dirt and mud encrusted feet disappear into a cubicle a moment before a portable screen was pulled into place, cutting off Sam's view of his brother.

Sam stumbled against Mike as he led him by the elbow to a row of molded plastic chairs against the wall, turned him around and pushed him down into one; he pointed his finger at Sam saying. "Stay here while I go and sort out some paper work."

Sam watched him move back down the corridor to the admittance desk, where he started talking to the nurse seated there his back to Sam. Sam looked back at the screen Dean lay behind, 2 more staff rushed into the cubicle pushing some kind of equipment, he could hear the staff talking but couldn't hear what was being said.

_To hell with waiting_; using the arms of the chair Sam hauled himself to his feet, grasping the arm of the chair in a white-knuckled grip as dizziness hit him. After the dizziness had passed leaving him still nauseous and trembling he let go of the chair and made his way unsteadily down the corridor towards the screen separating him from his brother.

As he got close he heard someone say clearly. "blood pressure is 70 over 55, " then a different voice said, "page Dr. Ellis and organize an OR stat, start another line with…" the voices slowed and faded to an echo the screen before him blurring into a swirling mass that pulsed in and out. _That's weird the screen is breathing._ Sam reached out the grasp the breathing screen for support but came up short his grasping fingers brushing the fabric as he felt himself falling, then the highly polished shiny cream colored floor rushed up to meet him, he landed face first the impact sending a wave of agony through his insides and the operation site. As the world dimmed around him he thought he heard someone call his name, but he couldn't be sure, then there was only silence and darkness.

----- FBTW -----

How much time had passed he had no idea, _maybe I'm still lying on the ER floor? Can't be, there's something soft against my back._

Brows drawing together in confusion he opened his eyes to stare at an unfamiliar white ceiling. Blinking rapidly he looked around the room, a hospital room; he looked down his body, "Crap, not again." He was wearing another hospital gown this one was pastel green. Lifting his hand he saw that he had an IV port embedded in the back of it attached to an IV pole next to the bed, 2 bags hung from the pole slowly dripping clear fluid into the line.

The room had 2 beds the one beside him was empty; the door on the other side of the empty bed was open slightly. He sat up slowly; the movement awakening various aches in various body parts, a sour taste rising in his throat.

Throwing the white blanket off his legs he slid them slowly and cautiously off the bed and planted his bare feet on the floor, grasping the IV pole in his hand a rush of cool air played across his back and butt where the hospital gown gapped open. He lowered his head as his vision wavered, breathing deeply. "Where do you think you're going?" Said a stern voice.

Sam lifted his eyes in the direction of the voice and froze; standing inside the now open door hands on hips stood a short, round African American woman dressed in an abstract pattern print shirt her ample bosom straining against the buttons across the front, her short legs in navy pants, lace up sensible shoes on feet so small Sam marveled that they held up her considerable weight.

"To find my brother." Sam stated, trying not to show the weakness that threatened to overwhelm him.

She stepped towards him on those tiny feet, wagging a finger at him. "You move from that bed and it's an enema for you."

Sam shrank back as she neared the bed; afraid she would carry through with her threat. Before Sam knew what was happening she lifted his legs and swung them back onto the bed, gently pushing him back against the pillow and pulling the blanket back up to his waist. "But you don't understand I have to find my brother, I have to find Dean, I have to know if he's alright."

She looked down at him. "You won't do your brother any good if you end up flat on your face, again."

Sam felt his face flush with embarrassment, looking down at the neatly folded blanket now covering him.

"I know what happened in the ER." She added picking up the chart at the bottom of the bed examining it.

Sam risked a glance at her noting the laughter lines around her eyes and mouth, Sam got the impression her bark was worse than her bite. "How long have I been here?"

"They brought you up early morning, running a fever, temperature sky high, infection spreading through your gut."

Sam ignored that asking. "And what time is it now?"

She lifted the watch pinned to her shirt, "11.40." Sam saw her name tag pinned above her watch.

_That was hours ago. _Sam had to find out about Dean, he'd try the patented Sam Winchester look, the look Dean called his puppy dog eyes"Bess, please tell me, where's Dean, where's my brother, is he alright, when I can I see him?"

Her expression softened as she looked at him, she reached out and smoothed the long bangs back from his forehead a gentle smile on her face. "That's a lot of questions, and I don't know the answers to them, but tell you what, you promise me not to leave that bed, I'll go found out, deal?"

"Deal, thank you."

"No problem."

Bess left the room, teetering on those tint feet. While she was gone, Sam manifested all kind of scenarios about Dean, the worst being that he had died while Sam had been out of it and his body was now laying in the morgue.

By the time she returned some 10 minutes later, Sam had worked himself into quite a state of anxiety, breathing rapidly sweat pouring out of every pore on his body.

She took one look at him, and took his blood pressure and his temperature fiddled with the IV before she said anything about Dean.

When Sam swallowed the water she almost forced down his throat, he asked. "What about my brother?"

She examined him thoughtfully for a moment, looking at Sam like she was trying to decide how much or little to tell him. "He came out of surgery about 2 hours ago, he's in intensive care heavily sedated, and his condition is listed as serious but stable-"

"That's it, that's all you know?" Sam's anger rising.

"Sam I know you're worried about your brother, I spoke to Geoff in ICU he's going to ask one of the surgeons who operated to come down and talk to you, and he'll be able to tell you more."

Sam blushed for the second time that day. "I'm sorry it's just that Dean and I, all we have is each other."

She squeezed his shoulder, saying. "Working yourself up isn't going to help you or your brother, try to get some rest and I'll let you know as soon as any news comes down."

Sam nodded; he knew she would keep her word. "Yeah okay."

"Now how's your pain?"

Sam thought about it before answering, he seemed to ache from head to toe, but he had no pain as such. "No pain."

"Good, you need anything else, bed pan?" Sam blushed for a third time shaking his head, "use the call button if you need anything and don't get out of bed."

----- FBTW -----

When a white coated man strode through the door introducing himself as Dr. Francis, Sam assuming it was the doctor Bess had said would be coming to talk to him and bombarded him with questions about Dean.

The doctor looked blankly at him, before saying. "I think you've made a mistake, I'm here to talk about you, I'm the physician treating you," he looked down at the clipboard in his hand, "err Sam isn't it? I don't know anything about any Dean."

Sam slumped back against the pillow only half listening as Dr. Francis went over his condition and how they were treating him. "You had a post operative infection from the peritonitis, but we caught it before it turned into something worse such as septicemia, we're treating you with IV antibiotics and something to prevent nausea, all being well you should be discharged in a couple of days. Any questions?"

"No questions."

Dr. Francis gave a curt nod of his head and left, leaving Sam informed about his own condition but still in the dark about what was happening to Dean.

----- FBTW -----

He tried to reach the surface, but it felt like he was swimming up through an Olympic swimming pool full of molasses and every time he tried to breach the surface the molasses dragged at him and drew him back down. In between his efforts to break the surface he lay supine on the bottom of the molasses pool and felt nothing, no pain, no fear, no worry for Sam, nothing he just sort of lay there on a cloud of nothingness. Then he was again swimming up to the surface of the molasses and the feeling of anxiety and fear were there. How long this continued he had no idea but finally he broke the surface and drew in a huge breathe the molasses was gone now replaced by a feeling of being feather light and cushioned on wave of pulsating air.

His hearing was the first sense to return, there was a hissing, a rhythmic beeping, somewhere close by a soothing voice talking softly and someone was moaning, _God please don't let that be me_. The second sense to return was smell, a clean clinical smell that unique smell Dean associated with hospitals and doctor's surgeries. The third sense was feel, he had something up his nose and looping behind his ears, but he couldn't muster any energy to lift is hand and find out what it was. _The smell means I'm no longer on the Crocker farm, that's good but where's Sam is he here too?_

He blinked open his eyes, all he could see was a blur of muted light. He must have made some noise because someone stepped into the light the dark figure silhouetted in a halo of subdued light. _Is that Sammy?_ The thought took the long route from his mind to his lips."Sammy?" He croaked. His voice sounded like it had gone rusty from lack of use, and rusty meant too much moisture, but his throat felt like a desert of sand and razorblades devoid of any moisture.

"No I'm Geoff, you're in the intensive care unit at Unicoi Memorial Hospital, and I'm taking care of you."

The head of the figure slowly emerged from the halo and came into focus, a shaved head, a wide mouth, lips that would rival those of Angelina Jolie, huge protruding ears and eyes. _No definitely not Sam. _The only thing that protruded on Sam was his girly hair, and that was only when he woke in the morning after a bad hunt in some crappy motel room.

He held a small plastic spoon against Dean's lips, "Some ice chips, it'll help with the dry throat."

_Geoff's a mind reader. _Dean opened his lips taking the ice into his parched mouth the ice chips filling his mouth momentarily until they melted and he swallowed the soothing cool liquid, it traced a path of relief down his sore dry throat.

Dean tried again. "Where's Sam?" _still rusty, but better. _Geoff didn't seem to have any trouble hearing or understanding him.

Geoff spooned more ice chips into Dean's mouth as he answered. "Sam, your brother? He's downstairs." _Yeah Geoff? Of course my brother Sam._ The man's voice sounded like he wore his boxers too tight.

Dean swallowed the melted chips. "Is he alright? I want to see him." His dry throat easing more with the second lot of ice chips, although his lips felt cracked. _Gee that was a long sentence, well done Dean._

"He's fine but I'm afraid a visit will have to wait until you're stronger."

As if a switch had been flipped in his brain, Dean felt lethargy and sheer exhaustion hit him; his senses hazing and his suddenly leaded eyelids were drooping and no matter how hard he tried he could not convince them to stay open, as they slid closed he murmured around an uncooperative tongue that felt like a foreign object in his mouth. "I have to… see Sam… see that he's… okay."

If Geoff answered Dean didn't hear him, all sound sight and smell faded as he sank down the molasses closing over his head and dragging him back into oblivion.

----- FBTW -----

An hour after Dr. Francis had left Sam was dozing fitfully when he heard the door to his room open instantly awake Sam looked up expectantly, he was still waiting on the promised visit from Dean's doctor.

Mike popped his head and upper body around the door, he smiled when he saw Sam awake, saying. "Hey feel up to a visitor?"

"Yeah sure, of course."

Mike came further into the room. "Any word on Dean?"

"No nothing yet."

"You look different to the last time I saw you, taking a power nap on the ER floor."

Sam gave a half smile it was all he could muster.

Mike was carrying a large paper bag; he pulled up a chair next to the bed, putting the bag down next to the chair. He sat down with a weary sigh; Sam noted that he was still wearing the dirt and mud splattered uniform he had last seen him in. Taking a closer look at Mike Sam noted the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and the tired slump of his shoulders.

"You look worse than I feel." Sam said with a half smile.

"That bad huh?" Mike ran a hand down his face and gave a weary smile, "I've been out at the Crocker place since sunrise."

"What'd you find?"

"We found the remains of Rae-Anne by the barn. Three bodies buried not far from the corn fields. All 6 bodies including Wade and Gracie have been taken away by the coroner, 2 of the bodies might be the 2 missing men Simon Green and Esteban Fuentes, and we also found Dean's Impala hidden way up behind the barn. I had that taken to the impound lot, and in the house I found these," he picked up the bag and handed it to Sam, "I'm guessing these are Dean's?"

In the bag were Dean's clothes and his boots. The boots were covered in dirt that flaked off as

Sam pulled them from the bag the jeans likewise were covered in dirt and stained with dried plant material; the hem of the right leg had ragged tears and was stiff with dried blood.

"Oh and I almost forgot," Mike dug into the top pocket of his shirt, between his thumb and index finger he held Dean's silver ring, "this was with the clothes."

Sam took the ring and placed it in the top draw of the bedside table. "Thanks, you didn't happen to find his watch and a silver Bowie knife?"

"Seems like Wade took some souvenirs, he had a Bowie knife on him and he was wearing a watch, I didn't think Wade owned a watch and I can't imagine him owning a knife that fine so they're probably Dean's, they went to the coroner's office with Wade's body, I'll see about getting 'em back when they're finished with 'em."

Sam was looking for a way to express his gratitude to mike. "I just wanna say thank you, thank you for trusting me, and for helping me find Dean without your help Dean would be dead, I'm sure of it, so… thanks Mike for everything."

Mike smiled. "The least I could do, he slapped his hands on his thighs and stood from the chair, "I'm gonna go back to the office, I've got a mountain of paper work to fill out."

"You're not going home? You've been up for almost 48 hours"

"What can I say; it goes with the territory, one of problems of being the sheriff, in a town with a werewolf problem, a town that had a werewolf problem. I'll call later to see if there's any news on Dean, Take it easy Sam."

"Yeah you too."

----- FBTW -----

The sky outside the window was darkening when the door swung wide a short middle aged man in an unbuttoned white doctor's coat walked in. Sam hadn't seen this man before so he assumed this was the man of the moment the doctor he was waiting for.

Sam had so many questions for the man, but now that he was here Sam was struck dumb.

The doctor gave him a smile holding out his hand as he came closer to the bed. "Sam, I'm Dr. Ellis, I was one of the surgeons that operated on Dean this morning, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get down here but aside from your brother I had 2 other emergency operations to perform," he said as he pumped Sam's hand.

He looked at the chair Mike had left beside the bed. "Mind if I sit" he never waited for an answer flopping down into the chair, he ran a hand through his thinning brown hair before continuing, "Wow what a day, now Dean, I repaired the ligaments and tendons and the medial meniscus in the knee and immobilized it, that was quite a job, he's going to need intensive physical therapy over some considerable time on that and the ankle which Dr Illing operated on, it was badly infected but fortunately no fractures or broken bone but he had to cut away some of the infected tissue and drain the infection, there will be some scarring but no long term effects. Now the lacerations on his back they were nasty and infected also, they've been cleaned out aggressively and dressed this will have to be repeated every day for a few days. Blood loss was a problem we considered giving him a transfusion but decided on fluids and electrolytes plus a cocktail of broad spectrum antibiotics and intravenous pain meds."

By the time Dr. Francis had finished this long narrative Sam had finally found his voice. "So is he going to be okay?"

"Well at the moment he is a very sick young man, but because he is young and strong and before this I'd say healthy and although it is going to take some time and barring any complications I expect him to make a full recovery."

"Thank God, when can I see him?"

"He's heavily sedated right now and still recovering from four and half hours of surgery and effects of the anesthetic and he'll be in and out until tomorrow, you can probably go up tomorrow afternoon."

"Not before?"

Dr. Ellis shook his head. "I'm afraid not, now do you have any more questions, if not I'm going home to sleep for 12 hours, but I'll be back in the morning to check on Dean."

"No questions I think you've covered everything, thank you doctor."

After Dr. Ellis had gone Sam lay back against the pillow his mind in turmoil as he tried to remember everything the doctor had told him, but one thing he had said was the only thing he could seem to recall, the most important thing he had said, _"although it is going to take some time I expect him to make a full recovery."_

Sam was glad of the privacy and that there was no one there to see him breakdown. His breathe hitched and he let tears fall until he fell asleep drained but more relieved than he had been for days, the tracks of his tears drying on his cheeks.

----- FBTW -----

The next time Dean surfaced, the first sense that returned was feeling. He was now on his side, and he thought that it was moving from his back to side that had woken him he groaned as the repercussions of the movement made themselves known, _even breathing in and out hurts_. The pain had just settled back to the point where he felt himself starting to drift again, when liquid fire centered on his back sent shock waves through him; he ground his teeth together to keep from crying out, tears squeezed from his closed eyes and soaked his face as the pain across his back moved from place to place seeming to increase as it went. It felt like someone was scrubbing at his flayed skin, moving from one area to another, he could feel the exposed muscles and nerve endings jump and cringe as the scrubbing systematically covered every part of his back. The pain radiating through his back threatening to burn right through him and burst out of his chest in a ball of fire. Unable to hold back any longer Dean heard cries of anguish pass his own lips.

As his cry died away the pain instantly stopped, he heard someone say, it sounded far away like an echo from the end a long tunnel. "Increase the Demerol before I finish." He sensed movement at his side, then nothing happened for a few heartbeats except a stinging that ran up his arm and neck to his head then a feeling that his brain was slowly spinning inside his skull, then the pain was back not as intense as before but bad enough to make him try to pull away, but he was trapped in this nightmare and unable to move away or escape from this new torture.

When it was finally over his back throbbed in unison with every beat of his heart, then something cool and soothing was spread across his back and he sighed in relief and let himself drift retreating back to that other the world where pain and torment was nonexistent, a world of darkness and silence.

With no concept of time that was how it continued for what seemed like an eternity. Darkness followed by pain as he was moved from one position to another. _Why can't you just leave me be? Please don't touch me?_ But they didn't leave him alone, they persisted with no words of explanation or sympathy and it always ended the same way with him silently begging, _"No more please stop?" _But they never stopped and never heard his silent plea as no words passed his lips only moans of pain and agony.

**TBC**

**Poor Dean is a very sick boy, but Sam is on the mend now although extremely anxious for his big brother's welfare.**

**I hope everyone had a Happy and Safe Easter.**

**Please review.**


	13. Chapter 13

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:**

You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:**

Almost 100 reviews you guys rock!

Well here is chapter 13, unlucky for some but not the Winchesters as they both get what they need to kick start the healing, each other. Although the road to recovery for Dean is still a long one.

I struggled writing this chapter and have re-written it 3 or 4 times, I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I thought I'd better post it before I decide to scrap it and re-write it again and again and again. (you get the idea)

Thanks to my beta _msokiedokie._

**Chapter 13**

Finally, at last Sam was in the ICU, it was the afternoon of the next day. An orderly had arrived in his room with a wheelchair saying he was to take him upstairs. Sam had almost jumped from the bed into the chair before the words were out of the orderly's mouth fidgeting with the folds of his hospital gown at his lap as the orderly had pushed him into the elevator and up to the next floor and the ICU, but more slowly than Sam would have liked. As he pushed Sam through the doors into the ICU a blast of warm air hit him, it was hotter here than downstairs, almost uncomfortably hot, he thought as perspiration broke out and trickled down his spine.

The orderly placed him near a bed from his low position Sam couldn't see the occupant. 2 staff were working on the occupant checking and adjusting the monitors and equipment that surrounded it.

The hot air seemed to be pressing down on him; he wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on the hospital gown where it covered his legs.

One of the staff looked from a monitor she was adjusting to Sam and smiled saying. "So this is the Sam he's so worried about, every time he's woken all he does is ask after you and about you."

_Typical Dean._ "That sounds about right." Sam managed to squeak out.

When the nurse that had spoken to him finished the other already having moved off further down the ward, she pushed Sam closer to the bed she came around the front of the chair, smiled at him again as she said. "Don't be alarmed by all the equipment most of it is just monitoring his condition, and is only there to help him. Now he might wake but he's heavily medicated, so it will only be briefly, talk to him and you can touch him, just be careful of the IV's and other equipment, I'll be at the next bed if you need anything; I have to turn him in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

As she moved to the next bed and out of earshot the moment for Sam to at last be reunited with his big brother had at last arrived he felt apprehension rush through him, would Dean look as bad as he had the last time he'd been in an ICU in Oregon? When after leading that murderous beast away from a wounded Sam to spite an already injured leg, Dean had fallen over a cliff lying at the bottom for many hours before being airlifted out by rescue helicopter, doing what Dean considered his job the lifelong job Dean had taken on wholeheartedly with no complaints or regrets after he had carried a baby Sam from their burning home 25 years ago.

Sam inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly through his trembling lips before using the arms of the wheelchair to push himself to his feet and look down at the wreck of his brother. It was as bad if not worse than Oregon, Sam swayed towards the bed reached out a trembling hand and gripped the rail at the side of the bed to steady himself.

Dean looked so small not at all like the Dean Sam knew and loved. He was on his side facing Sam, he was lying on an air mattress that inflated and deflated at regular intervals, and Sam guessed it was for circulation to help prevent blood clots and pneumonia as Dean obviously couldn't keep his circulation up to scratch in his current condition. A sheet was drawn up to his waist, clinging to his lower limbs outlining of the bulky brace on Dean's busted knee there was some kind of wedge between his legs also offering support and at the same time keeping the weight off his ankle a pillow wedged at his lower back to keep him from rolling. Deep purple bruising fading to yellow at the edges spread across the muscles covering the right side of his ribcage. Both arms were draped over a pillow out to the side away from his body the lacerated wrists bandaged; IV catheters in the back of both hands attached to various bags dripping fluids, antibiotics and probably pain meds; His chest and shoulders were bare except for electrodes on his chest connected to colored wires snaking up to the various beeping monitors and equipment on either side of the bed. Sam could also see the edge of the bandages that covered Dean's back where it wrapped around the top of his shoulder. Sam took all this in before he even dared to look at his brother's face.

Sam took another deep breath to give him courage and when he did finally look at Dean's face he had trouble believing this was his brother. His cheekbones stood out like spars in the pale gaunt face; as pale as the white pillow slip under his head and the bandage that circled his neck. The cut on his cheek was surrounded by a bruise the color of storm clouds, long black lashes lying against the dark smudges underneath both eyes, his freckles standing out making them look like they had multiplied from a dozen to a thousand, full lips cracked and dry, hair matted and flattened against his head. The oxygen cannula in his nose looped over his ears and under his jaw covered in a 4 day growth of beard resting snug above the bandage at his throat, the thin tube attached to the oxygen outlet behind the bed.

Sam tried to swallow the lump that had lodged in his throat his Adam's apple bobbing as he fought for control of his emotions. Needing contact with Dean he leaned over the bed resting one hand on top of Dean's head whilst grasping and squeezing the fingers of Dean's right hand in a vice like grip with the other, hoping that the connection would reach Dean where ever he was and he would know he, Sam was there and that he was safe that they both were.

"Dean, hey it's me Sam, I'm here big brother, you don't need to worry about me, all I want all I need is for you to get better."

Dean was close to the surface again, but he was comfortable and warm with no one poking, prodding and moving him from one position to another, except his fingers were hurting, they felt like they were in a vice being squashed together, there was a voice, muffled by the molasses that filled his ears, not a voice that belonged to one of the pokers and prodders, but a voice he knew well. _Sammy!_

He broke the surface the molasses draining out of his ears as he tuned in to the words his little brother spoke. "… worry about me, all I want all I need is for you to get better."

_He sounds okay? If he isn't then it's my fault, I'm sorry Sam._

There was a gentle repetitive movement against his forehead. _That's kinda nice, soothing. What is it? I'm gonna have to open my eyes to find out, but I can't somebody glued them together, don't like that much. _

Sam kept a tight hold on Dean's fingers and smoothed his thumb up and down his forehead, watching his face for any sign he could hear him. That was when Sam heard the change it the beep- beep of the heart monitor, the beeps were coming closer together, curious Sam looked up to the monitor watching the line lift and fall as it meandered across the screen, but his eyes flew back to Dean's face when a hoarse, scratchy, rough but oh so familiar deep voice said. "Sammy?"

Searching Dean's face for any indication that he had spoken and that Sam hadn't imagined he'd heard his brother's voice. "Dean?"

Dean's eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted. "Sammy?"

_I didn't imagine it. _"Yeah Dean I'm here."

"Sammy?"

"What is it Dean, do you need me to get the nurse?"

"Sammy… I want…."

"What? What do you want?"

Dean's eyelashes fluttered again then opened a crack, revealing a slit of green. "My fingers."

_Hey I did it, not glued that's a relief._ Sam was looking at him, frowning. _He looks okay a bit tired around the eyes but okay, that's good._

Sam pulled his head back frowning in confusion, and then he looked down at his hand clasped around Dean's fingers, the blunt tips reddened with the blood gathering there from Sam's tight hold.

Sam let go his hold on Dean's fingers patting them gently, muttering. "Oh sorry."

"Err Sam?"

"Yeah Dean."

The soothing stroking on his forehead continued unabated. Dean managed with great effort to lift his lips in a half smile. "Dude are you stroking me?"

Sam looked at his thumb still moving against Dean's forehead. He felt a flush rise up his neck and stain his cheeks. "Looks like."

"You're such a girl."

"Want me to stop?"

"Nah it's kinda nice."

Dean heard the smile in Sam's voice as he continued the gentle smoothing motion. "Welcome back bro, I've missed you." Sam couldn't stop the full blown smile that lit his face.

Dean's eyes were getting heavy again, _can't_ _keep them open any longer_. They slid closed as he said. "You alright?"

"Yeah Dean I'm good."

Dean nodded, or at least he thought he nodded he couldn't be sure, he was falling back into darkness with his little brother's thumb rubbing his forehead. He didn't want him to stop. _I'll never tell Sam this but I like it._

Dean gave a small nod of his head and his face slackened as the meds dragged him back under and away from him. Sam watched Dean's face as he slept he kept his hand on Dean's head continuing the stroking as Dean called it, even though Dean could no longer feel it, Sam needed the contact. And as much as Sam wanted Dean to be awake he knew that was a good thing for now. Dean needed healing sleep even if it was drug induced, but his brother was back from the brink of death and he couldn't have been happier.

----- FBTW -----

Thankfully Dean suffered no complications after the surgery, but the trauma he had been through combined with blood loss and the subsequent after effects of the surgery kept him in the ICU for over a week. Sam visited him for the next 2 days and was pleased to see an improvement with every visit. As the days passed Dean's general condition improved and he was more and more alert. Dean was being turned hourly and had to suffer the daily aggressive cleaning and dressing of his back.

Sam happened to be present for one of these sessions. They pulled the curtains around the bed; Sam heard one of the nurses telling Dean to press the PCA pump a couple of times before they began. Sam knowing his brother knew Dean would only use it because they wouldn't proceed until he did, so the sooner he did the sooner it would be over. Sam hadn't seen Dean use it at any time. Dean always hated using any kind of powerful pain meds, especially any Morphine based ones they made him drowsy and he felt like he wasn't in control and for Dean that was a no-no if it could be avoided. The staff would ask him if he was using the PCA and the answer was always the same. "No" they would roll their eyes and say, "Surely being a bit drowsy is better than putting up with the pain?" But in typical Dean fashion he said he was fine and the pain wasn't that bad, he could handle it.

When it was over and they pulled back the curtains Dean had lost the little bit of color that he had regained over the last couple of days, his eyes were closed and lines of pain creased his forehead, but he never said a word. _Fine huh, sure looks like it you stubborn jerk._

The third day Sam was discharged and after signing all the papers, dressing and gathering his few belongings and with a prescription for oral antibiotics in his pocket he visited Dean and said he would still come see him every day. Dean told him not to bother and he didn't want him to be rushing back and forth to the hospital. "Take it easy for a few days, will yah? Just rest and get fit." Sam said he would but there was no way he not going to be here every day.

Sam was surprised to find Mike at the exit waiting for him. Mike insisted on driving Sam and that he had a room for Sam at his place and one for Dean when he was discharged and the 2 of them were welcome as long as they liked. Sam had given in without much of a fight and was relieved that he didn't have to live out of a motel for possibly 3 months as that was how long Dean recuperation was likely to take.

Mike's place was just a couple of minutes from the hospital when they pulled up outside the neat single story house, Sam was surprised and overjoyed to see Dean's baby parked outside all in one piece obviously freshly washed and polished the sun winking off the smooth black duco.

Sam smiled. "How did you?" Sam turned to Mike.

"I sprung it from the impound yard, thought you might need it." Mike said returning Sam's smile.

"Thanks Mike, Dean is gonna be pleased to know she's alright."

Mike had Adam the deputy wash, polish it and drive it here. Everything Sam had in the stolen Taurus was piled neatly on the back seat, Sam had lifted the trunk lid and checked the hidden compartment all the weapons were in place, baring the things that Dean had on him when he was taken by the Crocker's, they were still at the coroner's office, but Mike promised he would get them back soon.

Mike had been the only other visitor besides Sam to see Dean and had taken care of any queries and all the details regarding their involvement in the goings on at the Crocker place and when Sam had asked Mike about it he said. "I got it covered you don't have to worry about a thing."

Sam never did find out what Mike had said or did to keep the authorities away from them or to explain how Dean had become injured. Truth was he didn't really care as long as their true identities weren't revealed.

Sam was grateful that he had Dean's wheels it would make visiting Dean a darn sight easier, now that he was no longer a short elevator ride away. He didn't think Dean would be at all happy that some stranger had driven his baby. _He hardly ever let's me behind the wheel; leave alone some stranger, maybe he doesn't need to know?_

----- FBTW -----

Dean was getting frustrated with the constant fatigue and lethargy that plagued him when he wasn't being ministered to by some hot female IC nurse, or at other times not so hot male nurse all he did was sleep. "Why the hell do I sleep all the time?" he'd asked Dr. Ellis on one of his almost daily visits.

The good doctor had smiled. "Dean I can assure you it's quite normal for someone who had suffered the degree of trauma, infection and blood loss that you have, you're making a good recovery and sleep is a big part of recovery, listen to your body it will tell you what you need don't push yourself too hard or you take the risk of setbacks."

Dean's first physical therapy session was an experience he'd rather forget, not that you could call moving from the bed to the chair physical therapy.

It was the second morning after he had been transferred from the ICU and about a week after his conversation with Dr. Ellis_. _

He was dozing half propped up, pillows at his back as he still couldn't stand any undue weight on the healing lacerations. Earlier he had choked down the bowl of yellow jello, the color of puke and the taste well there was no taste. _Invalid food, it should carry a warning 'NOT FIT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION'. I'm surprised anybody walks outta here alive_. But help was on the way Sam was coming soon and he'd promised to bring him a cheeseburger.

He was woken from his nap when the older nurse who Dean knew as Edith who looked like she should have retired 10 years ago, Edith who talked to him like he was 5, came in pushing a walker, she was accompanied by young woman Dean hadn't seen before she was around Sam's age and not wearing a nurses' uniform came in to his room. The newcomer introduced herself as Tia and she would be his physical therapist whilst Dean was in the hospital and it was time for him to get out of that bed. Dean smiled admiringly at her from his place in the bed. She was a pretty and petite her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, wispy tendrils escaped framing her heart-shaped face her cobalt blue eyes standing out starkly against the dark hair and fair complexion. She didn't look strong enough to lift a feather leave alone a man. Dean soon found out the hard way that looks can be deceptive; Tia might be petite but what she lacked in size she made up for in attitude.

"So today we're going to get you up and into the chair, for a little bit."

Edith detached the IV pole from the bed bringing it around to his left side then her and Tia sat him up, which in itself was difficult and painful pulling at his healing back and jostling his bruised ribs, that accomplished they carefully swung his legs around, butt perched on the edge of the bed toes of his bandaged foot resting lightly on the floor, he couldn't bend the leg with the knee brace forcing one leg out stiffly in front of him. Edith slid the walker in close to him, detaching the urine bag from under the bed and hooking it onto the walker the tube from the bag disappearing under the very flattering hospital gown the end inserted somewhere very private, _man I hate those things and why do they have to be so obvious, might as well have a flashing neon sign on the bag saying 'PEE'S IN HERE'._ They supported him on each side as he stood, taking most of his weight between them_; _pain shooting through his knee and ankle the first time any weight had been put on them on them since the surgery, it was as painful if not more so than when with Sam's help he had walked out of that barn. "Deep breaths, deep breaths." Tia was saying as they kept a firm grip on each arm as they waited for him to get used to the upright position before he reached out and took with trembling arms and took the arms of the walker in a death grip. Dean looked at the chair a short distance away. _I can do this, no problem; it couldn't be more than 4 or 5 steps. _But his body let him down every step was agony and the chair didn't seem to be getting any closer and without the two women's support Dean knew he would have been on the floor. _This is so humiliating._

Finally Dean made it to the chair, but then he had to turn around in order to sit. Eventually he was sitting a soft cushion at his back the IV pole beside him the braced leg on a foot rest and the bandaged ankle resting on a pillow, totally humiliated, trembling with weakness and fatigue, with pain throbbing through his whole body, lightheaded and on the verge of passing out, not to mention frustrated by his physical weakness and inability to perform a simple task like walking across the room, he cursed. "Son of a bitch, what the hell is wrong with me?"

Edith busied herself straightening the IV lines. Tia squatted down in front of him rubbing her tiny hand up and down his arm, her tone sympathetic. "Don't beat yourself up you did very well for the first time, every time will get easier you'll see we'll have you bounding up and down the corridor in no time."

_Oh joy that sounds like fun, dressed in this thing, my butt on show for the entire world. _Dean gave her one of those looks and his words dripped with sarcasm. "Can't wait."

"I'll come back tomorrow and we'll do some more."

Dean smirked trying to cover his embarrassment. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both so I'll see you tomorrow." She said answering his smile with a pretty dimpled one of her own. She patted the arm she had been rubbing got to her feet and left, almost colliding with Sam in the doorway.

Edith handed him the call button, stretched from beside the bed. "Buzz when we want to get back into bed."

"We will." Dean said caustically.

She smiled at Sam standing inside the open door. "We're not happy at the moment."

"Hey right here." Dean said, waving his hand in the air for emphasis.

She didn't seem bothered by the tone, throwing a smile over her shoulder at Dean she left.

With Dean's cheeseburger hidden inside his jacket Sam took the elevator to the orthopedic ward. Dean had been transferred there 2 days before the doctors surprised at the progress he was making.

As Sam rode up the elevator he thought about how Dean never ceased to amaze him, Sam knew Dean better than anyone the strength of character and willpower he showed every day, Sam was proud to call him brother.

Sam just avoided running into a pint-sized young woman in the doorway to Dean's room. Sam gave her a smile and moved aside to let her pass.

Sam was surprised to find Dean sitting in chair and not in the bed, being fussed over by a nurse the leg with the knee brace held stiffly out in front of him on a foot stool and his bandaged ankle resting on a pillow.

"Buzz when we want to get back into bed."

Sam couldn't see Dean's face but he heard his reply. "We will."

Sam smiled at the remark. The nurse turned towards the door, seeing Sam she said. "We're not happy at the moment."

"Hey right here." Dean waved his hand in the air.

The nurse glanced back over her shoulder at Dean then left.

Now that the nurse was gone Sam saw Dean's face; as pale as the white hospital gown he was wearing and coated in a fine layer of perspiration. Instantly concerned he crossed the room and hunkered down in front of him putting a hand on his shoulder. "Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean looked at him, his green eyes filled with pain and something else, if he didn't know any better he'd say it was embarrassment. "Oh you know, weak as a 3 day old kitten, tired of being talked to like I'm a child, totally humiliated, a tube shoved up my-"

Sam interrupted before Dean finished. "Dean, I know all this is frustrating, it's gonna take time."

"Tell me something I don't already know." Dean said rolling his eyes.

Sam thought it was time to change the subject; "Hey I brought you something." Sam pulled the grease spotted paper bag from under his jacket and waved it in Dean's face.

Dean's eyes lit up. "At last some real food." Dean snatched the bag from Sam's fingers tearing it open and unwrapping the burger he inhaled deeply the odor of over-cooked meat filling his senses and the room, pain weakness and everything else forgotten he devoured every last cholesterol filled crumb.

Dean gave a deep sigh of contentment; screwing up the wrapping and the bag he hurled it at Sam.

Sam sidestepped the greasy missile, before retrieving it from the floor and throwing it in the trash can. "So d'you get her number?" he stood looking down at Dean from his lofty height.

Dean looked up at him. "Not funny Sam, she's past her use by date."

"What?" Sam queried, "The little brunette with the blue eyes is past her use by date?"

"Oh her."

"Well?"

"She's my physical therapist, Sam."

"So, she's not your sister."

"Shut up."

"Think you're losing your touch there bro." Sam's tone full of humor.

Dean knew what Sam was trying to do. _I'll play along. _Dean looked up at Sam, seeing Sam's smile he felt his own lips twitch with genuine humor. "Bitch."

"Jerk." _Crisis averted._

With that familiar verbal exchange, Dean felt things were getting back to normal, _well normal for us anyway._ .Hindsight is a wonderful thing but pretty useless when you really thought about it. He couldn't change what had happened but he would never let it happen again. He would never do that to Sam again. He had been foolish hunting alone, he should have kept his promise to Sam and all that he suffered at the hands of the Crocker's could have been avoided, not to mention the suffering he must have put Sam through when he had failed to show up at the hospital that first day.

So Dean threw himself into physical therapy and recuperation in typical Dean style with grim determination and great enthusiasm. _Damned if Tia was right it did get easier._ Of course the cheese burgers and fries Sam smuggled in for him on a regular basis made a huge difference, cutting Dean's recovery time substantially.

**TBC**

**I hope that was okay, thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**FROM BAD TO WORSE**

**DISCLAIMER:  
**You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

**AUTHORS NOTES:  
**So here is the final chapter of FROM BAD TO WORSE. In it we see how Dean's recovery is going, some brotherly bonding and a brief appearance of the Winchester family bible.

To all who have read and reviewed also to those have just been reading and put this on alert. Your support for my story has been much appreciated. Thank you.

Thanks as always to my beta _msokiedokie _for picking up my to and too's (she knows what I mean).

And many thanks to _Tree_ for her advice on medical issues.

And last but not least special thanks to:

Fan Fiction reviewers:

zuimar, masondixon, deangirl1, babyreaper, riquitv, apieceofcake, UKfan101, IheartSam7.

And Supernaturalville reviewers:

oceane, darkhunter, bia1007, rbliss1969, supernaturalfem76, Maureen Nesbitt, moira4eku.

For their constant reviews of all or most chapters and their continued encouragement and support for this story.

**Chapter 14**

_**5 Weeks Later.**_

The morning Dean had been released from the hospital was one that would go down as a strange one in the history of the hospital. On most of the floors the hallways and nurses stations were deserted, there seemed to be a shortage of nurses; a patient using the call buttons got very slow response or in some cases no reply at all. And it was all because of Dean. All morning a constant stream of nurses and staff from all areas of the hospital came and went from Dean's room, to say their goodbyes. The female staff young and old alike also making sure Dean had their phone numbers.

Later when the hospital had returned to normal; an orderly wheeled Dean down the corridor to the elevator, stopping at every doorway so Dean could say goodbye to each and every patient on his floor. Sam trailed behind carrying Dean's aluminum crutches. Eventually they reached the elevator and once on the ground floor, Sam left them with the crutches outside the double automatic doors to bring the Impala close to the entrance. As the Impala pulled up Dean stood from the chair taking the crutches off the orderly. Sam rushed around to the passenger side to help Dean into the car, but backed off when Dean gave him that look. The one that said; _touch me and you're a dead man._ Settling instead for opening the door for his brother, Dean and Sam both thanked the orderly and shook his hand, before he turned pushing the wheelchair back into the hospital.

Dean had lost a lot of weight and muscle due to his latest ordeal and was still suffering weakness and fatigue when he did anything remotely physical. Just yesterday Dean had complained to Sam; much too Sam's amusement that even if he scratched his nose he had to rest for half an hour to recover. So Sam hovered ready to lend his strength and a helping hand as Dean maneuvered himself into the car and even with the seat back as far as it would go the awkward knee brace proved difficult to get into the foot well as it did not bend. When Dean had gotten everything in the car and as comfortable as he could be, Sam closed the door and went around to the driver's side.

Dean fingered the leather seat beside him and then ran his hand over the dash, a smile playing around his lips as he felt the tension that had built up in his back and shoulders from the simple act of getting into the car melt away. Breathing in the familiar smell and atmosphere of the one place he considered home. "Hello Baby d'you miss me sweetheart, I hope Sam has been taking care of you?"

Sam slid in behind the wheel catching the words Dean spoke with such affection. Looking at his brother he asked. "You talking to the car again dude?"

Dean's green eyes shot to Sam's face. "Bite your tongue; she's more than just a car Sam."

"Yeah I know she is." Sam said as he started the engine with an answering smile.

Dean sighed as the familiar rumble of the powerful engine vibrated through him.

As Sam drove towards Mike's place Dean relaxed into the worn leather seat. _I'm home._

Once at Mike's place a few adjustments and furniture rearranging were required to allow for the crutches and the knee brace but he soon settled in and was happily sharing the spare bedroom with Sam.

Mike had made them more than welcome. He seemed happy to have them there. He was a generous host and also a great cook, cooking a mean barbeque. The brother's agreed that they hadn't eaten this good in…… well they'd never eaten this well, diner food and take out just didn't compare.

They now counted Mike amongst their short list of true friends. Bobby of course was on the top of the list with Mike now holding second spot. He was someone they could truly trust and rely upon. And true to his word he had returned Dean's knife to him as soon as it had been released by the coroner's office.

On one of Mike's visits to the hospital he had been introduced to nurse Bess' niece, Harriet, who was recently divorced and with her 7 year old daughter had moved into the area for a fresh start. Harriet was at the hospital at Bess' request on the pretext of doing lunch. Sam thought perhaps Bess was doing a bit of matchmaking introducing her niece to the handsome sheriff. After some initial awkwardness the two had hit it off immediately and had been virtually inseparable ever since. And the fact that Harriet's daughter also hit it off with Mike didn't hurt.

The brothers were pleased that their new found friend had found someone again; Mike was a good, kind, decent man who deserved some happiness, after losing Gracie to Wade Crocker as a teenager and then, years later losing her all over again this time to a werewolf. Wade had told Mike back at the house when they had rescued Dean, the night Gracie had been bitten by the werewolf was the same night she had left Wade to be with Mike. It seems Wade was telling the truth when he said Gracie had left him. And although Harriet wasn't a replacement for Mike's first love she was just what Mike needed and Mike was just what she needed; they were perfect for each other.

Dean had been returning as an outpatient to the physical therapy clinic three times a week for rehab on his knee and ankle. He first session didn't start out well when Dean found out that Tia wasn't on staff at the rehab clinic; she only worked from the hospital. Dean was hoping to see the pretty petit PT again. Sam had wanted to sit in on Dean's first session but Dean made it obvious that he didn't want Sam there. Sam protested until he realized why Dean didn't want him staying. He was embarrassed. All the other patients appeared to be octogenarians with hip and knee replacements. Dean was the youngest one. So when Dean insisted Sam go to the cafeteria for coffee or wait in the car Sam went. He could understand Dean's embarrassment if it was him he would feel the same way. After the third session the lacerations on his back, neck, wrists and the incisions from the surgery had healed sufficiently, hydrotherapy was added to his physical therapy sessions, hastening his recovery further. A half dozen or so of lacerations from the barbed whip had left nasty raised scars, with the rest already starting to fade and with more time would disappear completely.

Soon after Dean had been discharged Sam had found Dean in Mike's bathroom using a shaving mirror to get a look at his back. Sam had waited holding his breath worried what Dean would think when he saw the multiple raised, inflamed looking scars criss-crossing Dean's once again muscular back. Dean examined the reflection in the tiny mirror for a minute then he had shrugged saying. "Chicks dig scars."

_**4 Weeks Later.**_

Dean had finally been able to ditch that damned brace off his knee a week before; affording him so much more freedom. To his amazement the brace although cumbersome had done its job. He only had a slight limp and almost a full range of motion that should return fully with time, the PT at the clinic had assured him. His ankle had heeled relatively quickly and Dean was able to wear a sock and a shoe comfortably although the ankle was now a slightly different shape due to the infected tissue that had been removed although most of the scars were fading.

Sam was still playing chauffer and he was surprised Dean had accepted riding shotgun with only a minimum of grumbling and little complaint about Sam's driving. He would have to wait until he had finished PT before being allowed to get back behind the wheel again.

And hallelujah today was the day it was his final PT session, which meant one thing he could finally drive his baby again and nothing was gonna stop him. His baby was all his. He almost ran out into the parking lot with a grin a mile wide, he saw Sam sitting behind the wheel leaning into the door, as if Sam sensed him he looked up from what he was reading straight at him.

Sam had been waiting for Dean outside the clinic, he was leaning against the frame of the open window reading a GQ magazine he'd found on Mike's coffee table. Sensing his brother was near he looked out through the windscreen, sure enough Dean had just emerged from the rehab unit, he was almost bouncing towards the Impala with his old slightly bow-legged gait; there was barely a trace of a limp and he was wearing a grin like a split watermelon. The afternoon sun glinted off the brass amulet back its rightful place around Dean's neck.

Although Dean had lost a considerable amount of weight; Sam found it hard to reconcile the fit healthy looking man striding confidently towards him with the pale, bruised, wasted shadow of a man lying in the ICU hovering on the brink of death 3 months ago; he'd come so far so quickly and all over again Sam was proud that Dean was his brother.

Sam smiled to himself when Dean neared 2 middle-aged women walking side-by-side towards the rehab unit. Dean nodded to them flashing them a brief white-toothed smile. They split allowing Dean to pass between them. Both women turned watching him walk away, the looks on their faces indicating that the Dean Winchester charm was back in full swing. _Had it ever left? _Dean had a certain presence that was exclusively his; turning heads of both male and female. And this animal magnetism that Sam wished could emulate that drew women of all ages to him like moths to a flame.

Dean came around to the driver's side and pulled the door open, it was unexpected and Sam had to right himself quickly to stop from tumbling out onto the concrete of the parking lot. Dean grinned at him. "Scoot over I'm driving."

Sam looked up at him through the open door, confused. "What did you say?"

"You know those little white sticks with cotton tips on the ends in the bathroom you're supposed to use those to clean out your ears, I said I'm driving." The last part Dean almost shouted at Sam.

"Dean are you sure you should?" Sam queried.

"Yep, the PT said so, now scoot over."

Sam shuffled over to the other side of the bench seat dropping the magazine next to him as Dean slid in behind the wheel. Dean gave a sigh of contentment, running his hands over the wheel. "Ahh baby I've been looking forward to this."

Sam shook his head. "Get a room."

"Don't listen to him baby." Dean said as he started the engine, revving it up as he continued to smile.

"Take it easy tiger don't get too excited and wrap us around a tree." Sam said with humor.

"Shut up."

As Dean exited the hospital parking lot, Sam said. "Hey I almost forgot." He opened the glove compartment and took out a packet of peanut M&M's, holding it up so Dean could see it.

Dean risked a quick glance at the packet then back to the road. "M&M's for me, and peanut too my favorite thanks Sammy, well what are you waiting for? Open 'em up will yah I'm starving?"

They made it back to Mike's place without any drama. Dean throwing smart ass quips around a mouthful of M&M's at Sam about the GQ magazine on the seat between them and throwing the occasional M&M in Sam's direction. Sam laughed catching the colorful candy and popping it in his mouth giving back as good as he got with digs about Dean having forgotten how to drive. They were both enjoying the good natured banter. But Sam saw that Dean had lost none of his touch with the big black classic car, his baby.

Dean flopped down on the couch in Mike's lounge room, leaning his head back. Sam headed to the kitchen.

"How about a beer to celebrate your last PT session and your first drive of the Impala?" Sam asked as he opened the fridge.

"Good thinking 99."

Sam pulled out 2 bottles, making his way to the couch. "There you go," Sam handed the bottle to Dean and sat down beside Dean, "here's to your knee." Sam said holding out the bottle.

Dean touched his own bottle against Sam's "To my knee."

They both took a couple of swigs, enjoying the companionable silence before Sam spoke again. "Dean, why'd you do it?"

Dean looked at Sam frowning. "Okay random, you're gonna have to be more specific."

"You went to hunt the werewolf on your own after you promised me you wouldn't."

Dean swirled the beer around in the bottle examining it so he didn't have to look at Sam, because Sam was using the puppy dog eyes again and Dean had no defense against that. He looked down at his boots, before lifting his eyes to Sam's face, _and there it is folks, Sam Winchester puppy dog eyes. _

Dean was dreading this moment, he had been expecting it weeks ago and when it hadn't come he'd hoped Sam was gonna let it slide and he would never bring the subject up. _Guess I should have known better._

"I don't know what to tell you."

"Just tell me why?" Sam leaned forward continuing, "Why I had to see you lying in the ICU on deaths door again, when if you'd waited it all could have been avoided."

"You're right, I know that and I'm sorry, but Sam, you were so sick and I honestly thought I could finish it and be back before you even knew I'd gone."

Sam shook his head. "When are you gonna learn, hunting alone is not on, it always ends in disaster."

"What do you want from me Sam?" Dean leaned forward mirroring Sam's pose. "I said I was sorry, it won't happen again, okay?"

Sam put his beer bottle down on the coffee table before he got to his feet heading towards the bedroom they were sharing. Dean spoke to his retreating back. "Sam, Sammy where you going? I said I was sorry… Sam!"

Dean sat there stunned, torn between following him and leaving him get over the mini tantrum on his own. Dean put down his beer, he had made up his mind to go after him, but he didn't have even get up from the couch as Sam was already coming back.

And he was carrying Dad's journal. He held the journal out to Dean. _I think I know where this is going and I don't freakin' believe it. _"I want you to lay your right hand on Dad's journal and swear that you'll never hunt alone ever again."

Dean looked from the journal to Sam's serious face, his hazel eyes pleading. "You're not serious? Dad's journal?"

"Deadly, now swear."

_I knew it. Man I hate being right all the time. _Dean looked into Sam's face and knew he had to do this for Sam. _Sam needs it. He needs to hear me say it and know I mean it this time. Sam's right;_ when am I gonna learn? _Hunting alone did always end in disaster_. _But I can't let him think I'm giving in too easily._

Dean rolled his eyes, rubbing his fingertips across his lips, before lifting his hand towards the journal, then pulling it back quickly. "Come on Sam this is stupid."

"I don't give a crap if you think it's stupid, now swear."

"You're not gonna let this go are you?"

"No."

With an exaggerated sigh Dean laid his hand on the worn cover of the journal, he looked up at his brother as he said. "I swear."

Sam nodded at Dean. "And the rest."

"On Dad's journal I'll never hunt alone again," Dean lifted his hand off the journal, "satisfied?"

"Yep." Sam gave a sigh of satisfaction as he sat down placed the journal on the table and picked up his and Dean's beer, handing Dean's back to him.

Dean took the proffered bottle. "That was a low act, making me swear on Dad's journal."

"Hey whatever works," Sam took a mouthful of his beer before continuing, "I can't lose you Dean, not now, not ever."

"You won't Sam." Sam saw the sincerity of that simple statement in his brother's green eyes. Dean lifted his bottle towards Sam. "Another toast."

"Okay, what are we toasting?"

Dean smiled. "To never hunting alone."

Sam returned his brother's contagious smile. His hazel eyes alight with laughter. He touched his bottle to Dean's. "Here, here."

**THE END**

**Thanks for reading, please drop me a review and let me know your overall thoughts on FROM BAD TO WORSE. I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it?**

**Watch out for my new story BRASS MONKEYS, first chapter will be up in a couple of weeks or so.**

_**Silvertayl**_


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